Bitcoin Billionaire: I Regressed to Invest in the First Bitcoin! - Chapter 60: Price of Silence

On a harsh rainy day, a high school student without any particular special skills, Usato Ken, got dragged into another world summoning with two others; a good-looking guy and a beautiful girl, both of whom he strangely started getting along with just today. As an especially talentless individual that didn’t stand out, he thought that the others would treat him like he was useless. However, they were unexpectedly kind.———“Maybe things will be fine?”Usato who found hope in another world thought that, but the reality was different. He had a certain magic talent hidden within him and he was forced to fall into hell under the name of “training”.

A boy that was imprisoned for millions of years has regained a mortal body.

He became a disciple of the declining Cleansing Incense Ancient Sect where its patriarch used to be his disciple. Now he will bring this sect back to its former glory.

This is his journey to reach the apex and take revenge on those who had imprisoned him.

This is his story of meeting old friends and making new companions.

This is his path of traversing the Nine Worlds and becoming the next ruler of the Heavens.

Several milennias have passed and the golden age of experts have passed. A master whose disciples once were the most exalted Immortals among the 9 worlds have all left him. With his mortal body, mortal physique and mortal life wheel. . . he shall sweep the 9 worlds and take what is rightfully his.

“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.

The first time I realized that I ‘couldn’t die’ was during a practical training exercise in my third year as a hero cadet.A beast suddenly leaped out of the bushes and tore into my neck.‘How did I come back to life?’Yes, I came back to life. I didn’t die.And now, after hundreds, even thousands of years, I was still alive. Only I had survived.“But now… it’s finally over.”After wandering for millennia, I thought I could finally put an end to this long existence…“Dale! Dale Han! How dare you sleep during my class? You’ve got some nerve, don’t you?”“…Huh?”But what awaited me at the end of my long existence wasn’t a period, but a repeat sign.