Live Dungeon! - Chapter 118, Time for Weiss to Change

An ordinary academy boy, Baiyunlou, had to meet the opportunity to embark on the road of self-cultivation.

It is Baiyunlou’s lifelong wish to sit in the small building and watch the clouds and clouds, and wander around the world to taste the red dust and fireworks.

However, the catastrophe is approaching, and the only way to rise up is to draw out the sword, for the thought in the heart, for all living beings in this world, to cut out a life.

A young man by nature, never forgetting his original aspiration, and comprehending the Dao in the mortal world.

Step by step to the top of the fairy road, to explore the truth of the heavens and the world…

“Fellow daoists, come to the small building to drink a cup of tea while you are free in the world of mortals~”

- Description from novelbuddy

In the residence of the Duke of Zhenguo, the legitimate young miss, known for her icy demeanor, had transformed overnight.She, who usually regarded no one, woke up to confront anyone she saw with a few harsh words, using her frail body to intimidate so much that no one dared to touch her.Afterwards, this legitimate young miss began taking on retainers, nurturing powerful officials, engaging in commerce, and recruiting troops… Every act so shocking and audacious, it defied the norms and provoked fear in all who spoke of her!Yan Wanqing was seen as an enchantress and a disaster by the people, a thorn in the flesh and a nail in the eye that the ministers wanted desperately removed, an entity everyone shunned as if she were a venomous snake.Only the Crown Prince Mingyue, descending from the divine altar, in the dark, godless alleys, grasped her neck and repeatedly asked her, “Will you marry me or not?”

“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.

Despite gifted with extraordinary talent, I resented my life being cut short.One day, fueled by alcohol, I penned a proposal letter to a princess, hoping to alter my fate.[Sure. I’d love to marry you.]…What? She’s accepting?The problem is, I proposed to all five tyrant princesses.And to make matters worse, I have no clue which one responded.