I Will Transmigrate In 10 Days; Fortunately I Have A Cultivation Emulator - Chapter 380 - 380 An Open Scheme against the Daoists

“He is the entertainment king who is in charge of everything. Been single for years, he had zero scandal. One day, a woman and a girl turned his life upside down.

During the summer vacation, sixteen nieces came to Luo Feng’s house to play together, but they couldn’t go back when the city was closed.

He silently calculated that the 16 nieces had to eat 16 catties of rice, 8 catties of meat and 20 eggs a day.

Total other consumption, need 3000 yuan per day.

Just when he was trembling, Uncle Shenhao’s system descended!

Just pet your niece to get rewards!

Explode the street with my niece, reward: an extended version of Rolls Royce.

Take your niece to the supermarket, reward: 30 million supermarket coupons.

Take your niece to eat out, reward: 100% shares in Dihao Hotel.

Teach my niece to write, reward: a house in the school district.

Book a movie theater for my niece, reward: shares in Yida Company!

Hold a luxurious birthday party for your niece, reward: the design drawing of the world’s strongest aircraft carrier!

With this system, I take my 16 nieces everywhere to eat, drink and have fun every day.

Accidentally, he became the richest man in the world…

- Description from novelbuddy

Ronan was just another overworked office drone until a sudden death transported him to a vast, unfamiliar fantasy world—alone, invincible, and armed with absurdly powerful abilities from a game he once played. But reality isn't as simple as a game, and after days of wandering the unending Nim Forest without finding civilization, his optimism begins to fade.Just as isolation threatens to wear him down, he encounters Frieren, a quiet elf girl hiding in the bushes. Their meeting marks the first step on a path neither of them fully understands, in a world that seems empty, yet full of mystery.

“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.