Protoganist's Sidekick Fights Back - Chapter 37: Miss Yue

The Strongest Magic meets the Mightiest Mecha.

I have stolen Golden Mechas from the deepest vaults of the most tightly guarded fortresses in the world.

I have personally destroyed more armies than the top three superpowers have in the span of the Absolute War - combined.

I burned down the terrorist megacity of Habon.

I was expelled from the Union of Heroes at a younger age than people are allowed in.

I have talked to Ancient Gods, loved women, and devoured mechas that would make superpowers cringe in fear.

I have faced demons head on in moonless nights others fear to speak of during the day.

I am deified in a thousand cultures, and labelled as the devil incarnate in the rest.

I am the Mecha Emperor.

You may have heard of me.

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Excerpt from Chapter 1

This is where it all began.

A junkyard.

Oh no, this isn't your clean, mechas-only junkyard that was the 'starting point' of many mecha geniuses out there.

I have seen and heard my share of rags-to-riches stories, and many of them claimed that they had started from 'junkyards' and slowly grew to be where they were right now.

From Zero to Hero, they declared.

You can do it too, they said.

As long as you work hard, everything is possible, they claimed.

I call bullshit.

Life doesn't work like that.

“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.

Allison is an adventure series set in a world containing one continent (extending roughly from the Equator to 60 degrees North latitude) which is divided down the center by a towering mountain range and a huge river. The industry and technology of the world are roughly equivalent to Europe in the 1930s. Due to the geography, two cultures developed on either side of the divide, and at the time the story begins, the cultures have been at war on and off for hundreds of years. The bloodiest conflict yet began thirty-five years before the start of the story; both sides are so exhausted by the conflict that an uneasy armistice is signed after some five years of fighting. Aside from a brief conflict over the jurisdiction of the river, resulting in the formation of a buffer zone on either side, this peace has largely been unbroken. The east side of the world is known as Roxche, though formally the region’s name is the Roxcheanuk Confederation. The entire region comprises sixteen countries which all speak a common language. The west side is known as Sou Beil, though formally the region’s name is the Allied Kingdoms of Bezel Iltoa. The region comprises the two kingdoms of Bezel and Iltoa which both serve to bring together a small number of countries under a common language different than that of the eastern region. There are far more blond-haired people in the West than the East.

At the beginning of the first novel, Allison, a pilot in the Roxche Air Force, has come to visit her childhood friend Wilhelm (“Wil” for short), who has remained at school over his summer break to continue his studies. While traveling in the countryside near the school, the two encounter an old man well-known to Wil’s schoolmates as a teller of tall tales. Nevertheless, he captures their interest with his talk about a “treasure” which, if found, is said to be able to put an end to the war. No one would believe him that the war between the countries could ever end, so no one listened to him. When the old man is abducted and taken over to Sou Beil, Allison and Wil steal an airplane and chase the abductors across the river into the next region. Fortunately, the two were raised as orphans by a woman who came from the West, and thus can speak both languages.

Seven billion humans living on the Earth time-traveled together after they had woken up one morning. They all heard a synthesized female voice.