Renegade Immortal (WN) - Chapter 6: Insults

I had to take him home and raise him. There was no bathtub or a large basin at home, so I had to put him in the washing machine for the time being.

It was an hour later before I remembered it again, by which he had been washed extremely clean.

- Description from Novelupdates

Bai Wu suddenly gains the ability to see the success rate of events in the real world. After experimenting with buying lottery tickets, he realizes the extent of his superpower.Thus, a lucky “Prince of Fortune” who succeeds in everything he does is born! A single antique trade turns him into a multimillionaire overnight.A casual blind date makes him the object of affection for two beautiful women.A random visit to a street market propels him into a massive fortune of 2.5 billion!With his extraordinary ability, he steadily ascends to the pinnacle of life!

Kieran Silver is a young man who suffered from the deceit of his superiors. His outstanding talents and exceptional prospects to climb to the top of Zenith Online dismayed his superiors.

They invoked their influence to suppress his uprising, ultimately causing his demise. However, rather than perish, Kieran Silver receives a second chance.

A chance to dethrone one of the top 10 guilds, Golden Brigade. An opportunity to create an immortal legacy that would forever live on in players' minds. The ability to reach the zenith in both worlds!

However, as he is reborn, Kieran notices a few things that are different from what he remembered. Could it be that he has gone back in time, or is there an even deeper explanation and a larger power at play?

These questions will be answered, whether forcibly or inadvertently, as Kieran explores a seemingly driving force.

The advent of the Legendary Berserker begins!

“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.