Medical Princess - Chapter 144 - The Child Stuck in the Wall Hole

Religious and cultural schisms wreak havoc on its internal politics, while revolutions are brewing in neighboring kingdoms. The aristocratic houses play endless power games amongst themselves, and the Emperor desperately abuses what little influence he has left to keep his rivals down.Amidst all of this, Arnold von Hohenfels, first son of the Margrave of Hohenfels, finds himself in the unfortunate position of having to attend the Imperial Academy, a notorious battleground of wits and brawn for ambitious young nobles.Armed with a magical gift that is as much a blessing as it is a curse, he must learn to navigate the treacherous waters of aristocratic entanglements. In the name of his family’s ambition, he must represent House Hohenfels' interests in this microcosm of Imperial politics, deal with his formidable enemies, form alliances of his own, and somehow keep his brash cousin Friedrich out of trouble.Frankly, he would much rather be anywhere else.

My handsome, overpowered dad, who only ever cared about me, ate something strange and turned into the Demon King. He used to be the sweetest, most doting father, but now he’s the final boss?! Because of this, my dad is fated to be killed by the male lead, and I’m destined to die lonely while mourning him. At that moment, I returned to the past and realized that this world is actually a game! I couldn’t prevent my dad’s descent into darkness, but no matter what, I must turn him back into his original self. If I succeed, I can get my loving dad back, right? For now, I need to get close to the male lead, who’s destined to kill my father…! So, I became a Holy Knight and even managed to be adopted as the ward of the Pluto Ducal House—the male lead’s family. …The problem is, I’ve become way too strong. As long as I get along with the male lead, my dad might avoid being labeled as the Demon King. “But that’s strange.” “…What is?” “Your lips… they’re heart-shaped.” “W-what? Don’t look at my lips!” At that, the male lead tried to avoid my hand and ended up rolling under the bed. “Ahhh!” “…?” He’s supposed to be the strongest person who’ll one day kill my dad, but for now, the male lead is just too cute.

Reborn in a parallel world, this place is imbued with eeriness everywhere... Do not enter the bathroom after midnight. At two in the morning, the sound of knocking resonates on time. A woman, haggard and emaciated, always stands with her back to oneself. Encountered a strange event? Lucky for me, I can Rewind! This is the story of a Reincarnator, carefully navigating a reality invaded by the bizarre, combating the strange with bizarre poses.

“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.