Dragged Into Another World Because of My Otaku Friend - Chapter 100: New Members

Baek Ain is your typical lazy guy.

He graduated from university at age 22 with a random degree he chose out of boredom and stayed single because fate decided so until that event happened.

“What? Where Am I??”

After a horrible incident, Ain transmigrated to another world. Or precisely to be a villainous and mobs character.

He died countless times because of the world's protagonists, gathering hatred toward them.

“What the fuck! What do you mean I stole your wife? I've been single since coming into this world!!”

“Hero, please save this world.” A goddess is begging me to save her world from the Demon Lord.

“Wait... Begone thot! That Demon King is my younger sister from 69th Transmigration.”

“How dare you!”

A beautiful heroine is hugging me from behind, wishing to accept her feelings.

“Shoo, Heroine! I don't need useless baggage with me. Side characters are better than you!”

And so, Ain's journey began to end this shitty transmigration cycle.

This year, Chi Ye has not yet embarked on the journey, the Rockets are still the most terrifying organization in Kanto, Sakagi has made a lot of money, and Niijima’s Chaomeng is still doubting life.

This year, Gu Liu has not been able to find a way to capture Celebi.

This year, Shui Wutong and Chi Yansong were only the leaders of two fan clubs, worried about preaching.

This year, Dr. Damu has not yet produced a picture book…

This year, everything did not happen, but someone was born in this year!

Someone: Excuse me! Don’t stop me from winning the championship! Otherwise, there is your good juice to eat!

(The world background of this book is mainly based on animation, but some content/relationships will be modified: Pokemon, Pokemon, Pokemon, Pokemon)

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.

A mental patient, or a born policeman?

A peerless genius, or a master of crime?

There are cops who are least like cops, and there are criminals who are least like criminals.

Neither good nor evil is absolute.

It is a grey world we live in.

- Description from Novelupdates