Outrun – Cyberpunk LitRPG - Chapter 157

We’ve had systems that help the MCs make pills, steal skills from legendary masters, and even be forced to show off to earn points, but what about a system that allows one to run a virtual reality internet cafe, featuring all the classic games?

Our MC awakens in a new world and finds himself with a mysterious system that allows him to run a fully self-sufficient virtual reality internet cafe! What? Opening an internet cafe in a cultivator world? You can now surf the internet, watch dramas, and play video games?!

One Emperor Warrior cried after visiting MC’s shop, “Damn, Blizzard completes my life!”

Another Yuan River Realm cultivator gasped after drinking Sprite, “What is this sorcery?”

What else did the MC bring to the cultivator world? Come join us on this adventure as Fang Qi faces off against cultivation sects and major forces with his collection of modern treasures.

If an ancient scholar searches through the mists of history, he or she will find such an existence:Pope of the night,Angel of the Creator,The hidden emperor of the empire,…He is also the perfect mentor;Wanmen’s guidance,The original source of pain...No one knows where he came from, only that he was born with knowledge and has been with him for years.Let us chant his honorable name together:Spirit of truth, pure man, master of dreams, supreme beyond all eternity

“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.

He died doing what he loved—on the basketball court, surrounded by cheers, chasing a dream that never came true.But fate—or perhaps the Basketball God—gave him one more shot.When Dirgantara Renji, a washed-out benchwarmer with a decade of struggle behind him, suddenly wakes up as his 15-year-old self, he’s confused, overwhelmed... and determined. This isn’t just a second chance at life—it’s a second chance at the dream he refused to let die.Now in 2009, armed with a mysterious System, years of experience, and a deep hunger to prove himself, Dirga is ready to carve a new path. But this time, things are different. New faces. New choices. And hidden talents he never met in his past life.Will he finally rise from the shadows to become the basketball legend he was meant to be?