My Sassy ‘Crown Princess’ - Chapter 987 - After Ascending (1)

I can see ghosts.Even the ghosts inside games.But then…”Ah! Not there, over that way! My family heirloom is hidden there.”The ghosts in the game keep revealing hidden pieces to me.

NightmaresCreatures that appeared from the unknown a millennium ago continuously threatened humanity, pushing and pressuring people who once inhabited it aside. These Entities brought the world into utter chaos, furthering their influence to what was once a land that belonged to its rightful owner.In the end, humanity was forced to adapt.They kept trying different ways to fend off the Nightmares, and the solution they finally settled on was… why not become one themselves?Cesar Sparrow, an unfortunate fellow born in an era full of corruption, horror, and the unknown, was desperately trying to escape from its clutches… until he found an enigmatic, dying eyeball that latched itself onto him.“Hehehe, what a great fellow you are,”“How are you talking—. Just what are you…?”The dying eye that latched itself to his empty, bleeding eye socket chuckled, its voice groggy as it answered.“What do you think am I? I’m just an old and weak Nightmare, Sparrow. Though, you can call me Eyes of Deceit. And I'll borrow your body for a moment if you won't mind. Hehe,”“No, why would I give you my body?! Get the fuck out!”Entrapping himself in a series of encounters, uncovering secrets that belong to the Nightmares… and the humanity wanted to remain hidden, Cesar Sparrow ventures into the unknown.To keep struggling, to keep resisting, to keep persevering… will all that be enough?Will he be finally the one to break the chains humans had found themselves in, ending a millennium of suffering? Or succumb to the curse of the Nightmares?

“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.

Due to investigating an arms case, he was forced to become a gigolo, from then on, the cute little loli, the sweet and pure young married woman, the cold and aloof CEO beauty, and all kinds of other beauties surrounded him.