History's Number 1 Founder - Chapter 1412 - At a Moment’s Notice!

Kubei was just an ordinary pencil and button pusher working a day job, hating his boss and making horrible speeches when one day he fell asleep after pushing an all-nighter. When he woke up, he was bound to a chair, facing three creepy robed women and in a body way too young and way too weak to be his own. As he slowly came to, he realized that he was no longer in the same universe as he was before. He had teleported to the Kingdom of Helius, where an all-powerful church rules its lands and wages war against the elusive group known only as Mages. Armed with an incredibly cocky neural interface that just won’t shut up and his own sheer wit, our MC will find himself not just fighting to survive, but maybe even something bigger than himself.

He died at twenty-two—bitter, brilliant, and broken. But death wasn’t the end.Now, Noel wakes up inside a tragic fantasy novel he read long ago... as a nameless extra doomed to die before chapter five. But there’s a catch—this “extra” isn’t ordinary.Armed with future knowledge, a sharp tongue, and a magic talent that defies common sense, Noel won’t just survive.He’ll rewrite the story.Because in this world?The real genius never had a name—until now.

An Apocalypse descends—as a lethal super-virus wipes out most of the human population. It took less than a day for the world to change forever—bringing mankind to its knees.It’s a time of misery and death for most, however, there are some who are lucky. Zane Graves, who came across a “Blood Crystal” is given an ability: [Dead Man Walking]—which grants him a special power, and so setting him off on his path to the top!

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.