Level Up Legacy - Chapter 2: A Debt

What will happen if your ordinary life becomes not so ordinary? What will happen if your old existence becomes anew? What will happen if the world that you know is changing?

Our heroine, Anne, is a 40 year old librarian, that got entangled in mythical magic, inside a mysterious fairytale book. When the disaster happened, she got thrown into another world, the kingdom of Valorian, where magic and lore are coming alive. A world where she becomes younger again, but with a wisdom and knowledge of a forty-year-old woman.

Kivas Chariot is struck by the sun—an event that corrupts her soul beyond repair.In the blink of an eye, she's transported into the midst of a cosmic ritual, performed by three eldritch beings beyond comprehension.Overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of their presence, her fractured soul erupts in a desperate tantrum, shattering the terrifying rite.Yet beneath their monstrous forms, one of the entities reaches out to her gently—soul to soul—and asks a simple, warm, and comprehensible question.“What is it you truly desire?”Tears welling, Kivas whispers from the depths of her being.“I want to be loved!”The entity grants her wish.But not directly.Now, somehow awakened in a strange new world, Kivas discovers something bizarre—there are stats, HP, MP... even classes and skills.In a world where time matter less and power are more rampant, Kivas attempts to strive and live her brand new life.

“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.

Zuo Chengan was thrown into a brutal survival game, only to awaken its sole god-tier skill: The Eye of Truth.From that moment, he began to see the game—and the world—for what they truly were.A broken branch lying by the roadside?Ordinary players: “Just a useless stick. Toss it aside!”Zuo Chengan: “A hidden NPC is offering a feast of rare delicacies.”A suspicious dish placed before the group?Ordinary players: “Don’t touch it! It’s probably poisoned!”Zuo Chengan: “Completely safe. And utterly delicious.”A monstrous creature blocking their path?Ordinary players: “Terrifying! Avoid it at all costs!”Zuo Chengan: Silently studies its hidden weakness.What began as a game to push humanity toward evolution revealed itself to be something far more sinister—a trap, a scheme of ruthless exploitation.The desperate battles fought in the game’s dungeons were nothing but a spectacle, staged for the amusement of another world.With his all-seeing Eye of Truth, Zuo Chengan ascended through the 12 Heavenly Trials, dismantling the web of lies spun by the false gods. His piercing sight exposed the malicious truths behind the game.Standing at the summit, blade in hand, he declared, “I will cut through this endless night, tearing apart the shadows of chaos to reveal the light of truth. Let the world see reality once more!”