I Received Messages From Future Self! - Chapter 26 - The Three Idiots on the Sled

In the night, cook wine with the master and discuss the way of heaven and earth!

In the snow, Yu Jian chased the tide of Guangling River!

- Description from novelbuddy

Jeff, who died while doing his usual daily routine, found himself transmigrated into another world one that was twice the size of Earth.At first, he thought life would be the same. Peaceful. Boring, even. Just another world with different skies and landscapes.But he was wrong. On one fateful night, while he lay in his small room, a sudden ding echoed through the air.It was sharp, clear, and unnatural like something out of a sci-fi film. And then… something appeared before his eyes.[Luck Spin System has finally bind][Congratulation you have gotten a skill: Godly Programming]With this luck finally his dream can finally come true which is making games, seeing that their was no minecraft in this world he decided to recreate it.Then his journey began starting as a programmer, he quickly rose to dominate the digital field, racing field, swimming field, shooting field, combat field, robotics field, hacking field, academic field, business field, gaming field, drone piloting field, artificial intelligence field, engineering field, virtual reality field, and even the military simulation fieldWhat would Jeff do with all these, skill and titles read to find out of course....Thank you for reading, and I hope you’ll continue to support me on my journey as an author.******************************************** DISCLAIMER ********************************************This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, applications, songs, technologies, locations, events, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously for storytelling purposes.Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to real companies, brands, applications (such as ChatGPT, Minecraft, or other well-known services), or any other entities is purely coincidental. All real-world references are included as part of the fictional setting and do not imply any endorsement, association, or ownership by the original creators.The author has no intention to defame, discredit, or infringe upon the rights of any individual, brand, organization, or intellectual property. This story is created solely for entertainment and creative expression, and should not be taken as factual or representative of real-life entities or events.Readers are advised to treat all references in this work as fictional, regardless of name similarities or thematic inspiration.

Elias “Grim” Kingsley, a nine-year-old orphan with a hardened heart and sharp tongue, dies alone from pneumonia in an overcrowded orphanage. Known for his perpetual scowl and biting remarks, he's labeled a “problem child” by caretakers and “damaged goods” by potential adopters. Years of rejection have built thick armor around his young heart.In death, he encounters the God of Balance who offers him a second chance at life in a different world—this time as Grim Van Ambrose, son of a noble house. Balance explains that every soul deserves to know love and connection, something Elias was cruelly denied in his first life.Promised the family and belonging he never experienced, Grim begins his new life only to suffer an immediate tragedy: his mother dies moments after his birth. This cruel twist of fate reinforces his belief that loss is inevitable, leaving him with a distant father and the mysterious voice of a “Guidance Assistant” in his head.As Grim grows into his new identity, he struggles with his dual nature—the emotional scars of his past life bleeding into his present one. His difficult personality and sharp tongue remain, now paired with noble privilege and expectations. Despite his outward brashness, he carries the deep wounds of his first life and the fresh loss that welcomed him into his second.What begins as one orphan's second chance evolves into an epic journey through a world of ancient beasts, elemental magic, and deadly political intrigue. As Grim uncovers the truth about the Ambrose Clan's fall from grace and the conspiracy that framed them for treason, he faces increasingly dangerous adversaries—both human and monstrous. His quest for revenge against those who destroyed his family's legacy will challenge him to master forbidden techniques, forge unexpected alliances, and ultimately decide whether to rebuild the Ambrose Clan as it was, or transform it into something entirely new.In a realm where power determines survival and ancient secrets lurk beneath noble facades, Grim must learn that sometimes the greatest battles aren't fought with swords, but with the choices that define who we truly are.

“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.