MIGHT AS WELL BE OP - Chapter 407: HOLOCAUST

Ten years after her parents’ divorce, the grandmother who raised Chu Tingwu passed away, leaving her to be shuttled back and forth between relatives.At this moment, an entity claiming to be a “Cub Rearing System” suddenly appeared, wanting to bind itself to her and cultivate her into an outstanding graduate of its program.Just as Chu Tingwu was about to refuse, she saw her personal attributes on the system interface—[Name: Chu Tingwu][Species: Cat]Chu Tingwu: Something’s not right here…Due to a bug, the system had identified her as a kitten.Her stats were those of a cat, but her appearance remained human.How should an exemplary human-cat be raised? Sleeping, causing mischief, eating until she became as round as a pig?However, the reality turned out to be quite different: extreme sports, expert bird-catcher, master mouse-hunter, catching invasive fish barehanded with dynamic vision, using camouflage and tracking skills to film documentaries of rare birds, nearly making the social news as a suspected retired special police officer.For the first lesson in cultivation, the system said gravely:“A cub cannot live alone. We need to find you a cat mother… I’ve already detected a suitable candidate nearby. Go to the target location quickly, little one, and let the cat mother adopt you.”Chu Tingwu looked up as an advertisement fluttered into her hand:[Sunshine Pet Hospital: Limited-time half-price pet neutering, one month of free food with every pet adoption]Chu Tingwu: Who exactly is adopting whom here?

Justice, Eternity, Wisdom, and Purity—the deities of Order protect all that is on the earth.Khorne, Nurgle, Tzeentch, and Slaanesh—the chaotic deities lurk menacingly in the shadows.Welcome to the Infinite Paradise...“Shut up, this is my paradise.”Lecheng interrupts the main god's words with discontent.When Order retreats in his presence, when Chaos hides because of him, when he decapitates both Khorne and Justice, and when Purity and Slaanesh must face the dilemma of death or maternity leave because of him, Lecheng is pondering a very serious question.“Can the main god go on maternity leave?”...PS: This is the story of an unruly, wanton, and extremely frenzied man in an infinite world. Original infinite stream plots.

Leo Lock, a reading addict with the ability to truly 'read' books, never really fit in his boring 'normal' world. However, everything changed when an unknown voice found its way to his head!

Fainting only to find himself in the body of a character from a fantasy novel he once read upon waking up, Leo barely processed his new reality before he was thrown into another whirlpool.

[Role: Reader]
[Target: Reach the Epilogue.]

The only lead he had about his 'transmigration' didn’t speak much! Even the character he took over already had a foot in the coffin! How was he supposed to survive that long? Why did he have to become the protagonist’s brother?!

Moreover, what was this Personal Book supposed to be? Reading Attributes? Points?

Follow Leo as he experiences the true life of a reader in a fantasy book, facing expected challenges, and encountering all kinds of 'new'…

Would he manage to go back and find out the reason behind his 'transmigration'? Was that even his purpose? Or was this nothing but the start of a much bigger change beyond the scope of his understanding…?

***

First Volume: The Sword Master’s Second Life
Second Volume: Murim Supremacy

Note: Yes, Leo starts out with a sword, but that isn’t the limit to his choice of weapons!

“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.