My Servant System - Chapter 1117 - 1116: Bloodletter (2)

Bai Xunyin was inadvertently traumatized by stress during the year she graduated from Middle School. She became a “little mute” who couldn’t speak. In her first year of high school, she spent her days listening to the cynicism and discriminatory bullying of people around her until her second year of high school. Bai Xunyin met Yu Luoyin. He was clear, elegant, with straight eyebrows and star like eyes. He was the most handsome boy in school, and was the dream boyfriend of all girls in school. But for Bai Xunyin, Yu Luoyin was the first to protect her, smile at her, discuss topics with her, and the person who had lunch with her. The onset of her crush was turbulent and confusing in her teenage years.

Zeke Draker,The first failure to awaken among the direct descendants of the Dragonslayer family.Expelled from his family for possessing the talent of a Healer instead of a swordsman.Zeke struggled desperately to become stronger, only to face a miserable death.At the moment of his death, strange letters appeared before his eyes.[The soul of the Elder Dragon is engraved into the spirit of the one who possesses will.][An irrevocable and promised power is activated.]When he regained consciousness, he opened his eyes twenty years in the past, in the family that had abandoned him.“If I can become stronger, I will use anything at my disposal.”A new awakening with an immortal power.The legend of a Dragonslayer with a different class begins.

In a world fraught with innumerable dangers where living day by day is a struggle, a young man from the modern age transmigrated into such a world, accompanied by a peculiar system made for assassination.

“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.