Strongest Superhuman System - Chapter 9: Not Just Yet

The Apocalypse is in full swing. Defiled - powerful creatures corrupted by the Great Collision - prowled the lands in search of prey. Unfortunately for them, the human race had long since retreated behind the secure walls of the Sanctuary of Everlast. During one of his regular excursions outside the Sanctuary, Alden is separated from Celeste. - his childhood friend and crush. In that moment, he came to regret never summoning the courage to confess. Somehow managing to survive thanks to some trickery, Alden awakens as a mage. Instead of receiving a normal power, he gains the ability to decay. What’s more, during his ascension, he received a vision from his future self advising him not to trust the Asterons - celestial beings who had saved his race from inescapable doom. Normally... such a revelation wouldn’t faze Alden. However, there was only one major problem with the declaration, though. Celeste was bound with an Asteron. And not just any normal Asteron... She had made a pact with one of the Divine Sovereigns.

Travel to the wizarding world.

“But… what about the wizard who promised to pursue the truth?”

“Why are they all greedy people who pursue power!”

With infinite knowledge comes…

It’s endlessly weird!

- Description from novelbuddy

MC (female protagonist) dies in a plane crash and wakes up in the body of a beautiful but corrupt and lascivious prime minister in ancient times, Zhang Qinglian. As circumstances decree, he (she) cannot reveal that the original owner’s soul is gone else calamity might occur. So he (she) decides to walk a righteous path, determined to help the lovely but simple little emperor rule the country. Not backing down after facing torture, not losing courage, destroying rebellions and facing off with scheming princes.

“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.