Chaotic Sword God - Chapter 3815: Finding Reinforcements

There was a special patient in Spruce Hospital. A person in vegetative state and coma that the tree doctor, So Lee-yeon, has been hiding for two years…‘Don’t wake up. Please don’t wake up.’It was her dream to live quietly so she prayed every night. Then one day, by pure miracle or failure, the person in vegetative state woke up!“Did you come to suck this poor bastard’s dick?”In front of the man that lost his memory and common sense, she told a lie that couldn’t be turned as she was afraid of his mu*derous instinct.“I’m your w-wife, Kwon Chae-woo.”To the man who buried someone alive and tried to kill her two years ago!

Lee Junghoo died in a car accident. He braved each and every hardships in Jaiden’s body in hopes that he would survive once he cleared the game of the gods but just when the Empire’s strongest family was about to fall and killed by the monsters…

Based on these words, it seemed like he still had another chance.

1 Stop the destruction of the continent.

2 Survive until the age of 35.

He was given these two main quests. He had tried to finish the first one during the beta test. However, he realized that there was no solution to this problem. So this time, he was going to pick the second.

And the first step for him to achieve this was to leave this crazy family of his.

“Maybe the answer is running away from home?”

Chen Rui, an otaku from earth, is reborn into a human body in another world, who falls into the legendary evil, brutal world of the devil called Mozu where humans are treated as food. He has to survive while facing horrors of the devil, violent dragons and a variety of power enemies depending on a strange super system chip and his wits. Surrounded by Devil’s beauties such as black-bellied lolita princess, cold queens, violent dragons, charming poisonous devils …

“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.