Ascension of the Sylvan Cosmos - Chapter 363. Ignatia’s Unwavering Resolve.

A thousand years ago, the Great Calamity struck Earth. Countless rifts tore through reality, opening portals between the Demon Realm and the Human World. Overrun by monsters, humanity was on the brink of extinction. But at its darkest hour, something miraculous happened—those who died returned, awakening strange new powers that allowed them to fight back.Vale knew that story well. Maybe that's why he wasn't surprised when he heard the voice of the system speak to him.[ Congratulations! You have died. ][ Your First Trial of Death begins now. ]What truly shocked him, however, was the question burning in his mind:“Who would dare to assassinate the Second Prince of Verythmia?”

A huge disaster [Dark Game] sweeping across the multiverse has come.

When all the players in the game die, the entire civilization will be destroyed together.

Zhang Feng took the last artifact of mankind and was reborn from the future before the beginning of the dark game.

First of all, the first step is to start the game with a life of 100 years, and extract the SSS-level talent [Almighty Power].

The journey to the gods begins here!

- Description from novelbuddy

Raised on earth to be the ultimate playboy, Ryan finds himself traversing into another world, being the only male on the planet able to cultivate.

Men are used as little more than servants, but a select few are born with the power to be enhancers.

Enhancers seed has special properties that help cultivators rise in levels, but it looks like all the men on this planet have severe erectile dysfunction...

With Ryan's devilishly good looks and skills, will his previous experience being a one-pump chump be enough take the world by storm? Or will his end be as fast as he is and come to a finish prematurely?

“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.