How To Live As A Writer In A Fantasy World - Chapter 367: Book 27 (3)

“I don't share my possessions, Mr. Campbell. Your wife stole from me and now I want something back. You should know I always collect what I'm owed,”When Liam Campbell's wife steals from his wealthy female boss and disappears, he's left to face the music. But his boss, Lady Isabella Ashworth, has other plans for repayment—plans that involve keeping the handsome man for herself.Everyone thinks they know the score: young guy becomes a rich woman's plaything. What they don't know is that Liam's got more weapons than just his looks. Behind his perfect face lies a ruthless mind that turned him from a nobody into a rising star.Now, trapped in Isabella's world of luxury and power, he'll play her game—but by his rules. His main goal is to dominate her as much as she wants to dominate him.But who's really taming who?

Liang Sheng transmigrated into the alternate world, starting off with the talent “Dull Cultivator”. A “Dull Cultivator” referred to someone with a sincere heart, unyielding perseverance, and extremely slow cultivation speed. There was no bottleneck in his cultivation.

But what did it matter if there was no bottleneck in his cultivation? Having an extremely slow cultivation speed made everything difficult. However, when he reached the ninth realm of Profound Eternity and broke through to the tenth realm, extending his lifespan by twenty years, he suddenly realized that this was the true meaning of “no bottleneck in cultivation”. Any cultivation method could be pushed to its limits and be continuously cultivated.

Since that was the case, if one method of cultivating longevity was not enough, then he would practice ten methods! If ten methods were not enough, then he would practice twenty! In short, he wanted to achieve immortality!

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Razé was a cheat soldier at the age of 15, thanks to the memories of her previous life. One day, she was summoned by her superior – the devil Prime Minister and was ordered to go on a long-term solo mission. She was expecting a harsh mission, but…

“I knew you are the right person for this, Lieutenant Colonel Razé Orphan. I want you to attend the Centrior Imperial Magic Academy starting from this spring.”

“…..what?”

Well, it seems that she has been appointed as the “bodyguard” for the prince and other noble’s kids. And so, she was enrolled to the school where the aristocratic-sama gathered.

Although she was puzzled by the glittering school life, she was trying to live a life so as not to be bullied in the future. But it seems there was a secret that she didn’t know hidden in this world.

“Hey!!!!!! No one told me that this is an otome game!!!!!”

As a bodyguard, her life would be over if any of the noble kids got hurt. But then a young lady who claimed to be the ill-fated villainess came by. If the girl died, won’t she be dead too?

Today, Razé will continue to watch over her school life (with her own life on the line).

“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.