Misunderstood Villain: Heroines Mourn My Death - Chapter 330: Her Final Lesson

In the 15th year of Lolan’s independence, Luo En transmigrated to this world. But because his system needed six months to load, he had to make use of his own know-how to open a bar in the city and use the bar to familiarize himself with this new universe he was in.

But the location of the bar was poor, so the only customer he had was a man named Charles. This man was a very strange one who enjoyed asking Luo En about the country. He would ask about matters concerning the military, the people, and any other topic that would have seemed potentially treasonous.

“What sort of person do you think the current king of Lolan is?

“Which side do you think is more likely to win the war between Lolan and Waoh?

“Which of the king’s sons do you think is most suitable to be the next king?

Charles’ questions were always so bold.

Luo En was always on the verge of rolling his eyes. As a top student of the 21st century who was well versed in military matters and history, these brainless questions were an insult to his intelligence

But since Charles always spent so much money here, he decided to just answer some of Charles’ questions.

“The current king of Lolan is a good king who’s hard to come by. His legacy will definitely go down in history!

“Before him, Lolan was a divided nation where the aristocrats took control of everything, oppressing the people and making their lives difficult. White Horse City and Sunset City were filled with poor and hungry people, even selling their children to make ends meet and eating absolutely anything they could find. It was such a tragedy.

“Thankfully, the current king united the country and gave the people a peaceful and stable environment to live in. At the same time, he set new laws to help the people come out of their post-war poverty…

“So, I think the current king is a truly wise man, a good king who comes once every millennium!

After hearing these words, the king in disguise at the bar felt his heart palpitate. “You know me the best!

“I, Eddie Edward, had reincarnated into a world of magic and became the single child of Duke Eddie from the Lancamdo Kingdom.

Fortunately, I was given a system that could collect energy from magical items and turn them into attribute points, skill points, and bloodline points to enhance myself. Knowing that this is a world full of danger and cruelty, I’d decided to become stronger with the help of the system.

On a day like any other, I was given a personal maid. The new maid was acting strangely, but I paid no attention to her weird personality because she was loyal to me.

As days passed by, I began to have more maids around me. However, all of them were strange.

It wasn’t until later I noticed that the maids would leave at night and return reeking of blood.

Naturally, I was curious, but I’d never questioned them as they were my personal maids.

To become stronger, I, Eddie Edward, continued to grow using the system to be not threatened by others in the future.

Until a fateful day…

I learned something important. One of my personal maids was a Fallen Angel?

And the other one was the Lady of the Dark that was being pursued by the Holy Church?

Not only that, but I also heard some of my maids being addressed as the Lord of the Dard?

The Ominous Witch?

The Vampire Queen?

Lady of the Death?

Why did their names sound like they were some antagonists of a novel?

Could it be that all of my personal maids were actually the bad guys of the world I was in?

Not long after that, I was now a wanted person in the Lancamdo Kingdom? Some even began to hail me as the Lord of Evil?

Eddie Edward let out a deep sigh. “Fine. Looks like I can drop the act now.”

With a wave of his arm, the alliance of the mage and knight was wiped out with an asteroid.

“To tell you the truth, I’ve already become the God of Magic.”

By the time I realized it, I had reincarnated into another world.

I kept sleeping, and at some point I became a Demon Lord.

Even though I never wished for it.

But for me to not have to work, this world is the best. It must be true that good things happen to good people.

The flavor of Sloth is as sweet as honey. Glory, diligence, virtue, or honor. I have no interest in anything like that.

What’s there to hide? The Lazy king is… none other than me.

“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.