Tales Of The World Devouring Serpent - Chapter 634: Half-Step Universe Master (part 2)

A Blindfold That is Beyond Reason [Legendary]

-Experience Gained Increased by 500%
-Weakness Detection Skill lv.MAX
-Critical Hit Damage Increased by 300%
-Does not obstruct wearer’s vision

…The truth is, I can see everything clearly.

Su Jin, an ordinary poor young man from the countryside working overtime every day to make ends meet in the city to support his family, finds himself in the possession of a book only known as Hell’s Handbook.

The Handbook universe initially seems like a video game as it proceeds to throw him into a different world every month, each world filled with supernatural beings, mythical creatures and deities, and even includes a complete point system along with weapons and special skills.

Surviving these challenges is not easy, but it comes with great rewards.

But he soon realizes that all of this is real. The monetary rewards and magical items he receives from Hell’s Handbook can be used in the real world, but in the same way, every person who dies during a challenge dies in the real world too.

As Su Jin desperately tries to survive each challenge he is thrown into, he slowly starts to uncover the truth behind Hell’s Handbook.

Who is behind Hell’s Handbook and its horror filled challenges? Each challenge reveals a new truth about the world Su Jin lives in, bringing new people into his life even as the world around him becomes harder and harder to trust, and perhaps, even a greater mission in life…

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“Music, film, painting, calligraphy, sculpture, literature…”

“You know all this?”

“Just a bit.”

“You mean, you know a bit about all of these?”

“Yes, I know quite a bit about all of them.”

With the System in his pocket, he conquers the world through art, becoming the crownless king that all realms worship.

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“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.