I Fabricated the Techniques, but my disciple really mastered them? - Chapter 1116 - 576: Shocked Blood Demon, Black Chi King

Transmigrate into a different world, start as a criminal soldier, master the deconstruction core system, and embark on a peculiar journey as a wizard.

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What would happen if you found yourself in One Piece as a Side character ?What would you do if your cheats were not actual cheats, instead you got scientific knowledge. Would you accept your life as a side character? Would you stay low key and mind your own business? Or would you throw yourself into the plot and change it to your benefit? This is a story about a man that had those options.Blerd finds himself in one of his favourite animes , One Piece. If you seen an add offering transmigration services to other worlds don't click it! At best it's spam at worst it's real. Some things are better as a work of fiction. Why? Smart Isekai is an ad that has you choose an anime world and challenge it with No golden fingers no quick power ups. You have to use you brain to think of creative ways you can challenge the world with no cheats but as a Native. I chose to challenge the world of One Piece. Now I am really in One Piece how the heck am I gonna survive ?

Ethan possessed everything one could desire, wealth, happiness, luxury cars, and a loving girlfriend.He had never fought a day in his life, but then suddenly, he woke up in a different world.A world were destruction and bloodshed was the norm. A world where the weak had no place to survive.Ethan now possessing the body of a boy who had failed his awakening twice and was on his last try, now stood in this world.Can Ethan who never fought a day in his life survive in a world where battles and death occurs every second, minute, hour and day.Would he rise through the ashes of the world, or would he burn with it.

“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.