Memoirs of the Returnee - Chapter 152: Abyss (3)

After his fall, the Duke who was distant with his wife and daughter recalled his memories of another world. With a new perspective on life, he swore to cherish and protect those two.

All the people came to the Chaos Continent, became the lord of one party, and participated in the struggle for hegemony among all ethnic groups.

Tinder is the authority of the human lord. You can sign in on Tinder every day to get population, blueprints, food and other materials.

Huang Yu signed in on the first day and got a discounted artifact.

A batch of discounted products will be refreshed every day for Huang Yu to buy.

then……

“This legendary weapon is only 10,000 magic crystals after the discount? I bought it!”

“0.5% off dragon eggs? Give me 100!”

“0.0…01% off the extraordinary arms training camp! There is such a good thing? Come to the bowl!”

…

Since then, Huang Yu and his territory have become famous in the Chaos Continent!

- Description from novelbuddy

Fang Ze traveled to the world of psychic forensics and activated the detection system.

Since then, the world has gained a crime-solving wizard. In just one year, Fang Ze became the captain of the police force.

Suspicious disappearance cases, corpse dismemberment cases without clues, heinous vampire cases…

With his keen judgment, Fang Ze relied on the assistance of the system to grow all the way.

With the passage of time, Fang Ze suddenly discovered that this world seems to be more than just a psychic forensic doctor…

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.