Sovereign of the Karmic System - Chapter 699: Picking Chords

From infancy to maturity, what Ye Zhou dislikes the most was “two”.

The reasons were: he was ranked second at home, he had been forever ranked second at school, no matter how diligently he worked and tried, he couldn’t shake off that “second” curse. What was more exasperating was that, at University, not only was he ranked second, but even his appearance that he was proud of had to be classified as second best!

Why can’t I obtain the first place!

The eternal second will rise!

Then, Ye Zhou, after his vigorous efforts finally rises and the result was… the first became his boyfriend.

This is the story of a man who has been forced to be “second” and how he became the first, most popular.

- Description from Novelupdates

A calculating merchant of noble birth lives a comfortable life managing his guild's business at the Imperial Academy—until lightning strikes him, leaving him with prophetic visions of a disastrous future. In these visions, he's expelled from his family, branded a traitor who aids demons, and worst of all, becomes a penniless beggar. When the supposed “protagonist” of these prophecies enrolls at the academy, he realizes his countdown to ruin has begun. Now he must use his foresight to rewrite a story where he's cast as a third-rate villain, all while navigating ancient dungeons, demonic threats, and the troublesome “hero” who might be the key to changing his fate.#MoneyIsEverything

As the apocalypse arrives, Song Ke, who grew up in the abandoned area, unexpectedly awakens her special ability. Within her field of vision, all objects can be transformed into handy spiritual tools with just a thought. She becomes the sharpest blade, now possessing the most flexible scabbard. Wherever she goes, zombies of all kinds cower in fear.

After wandering alone for several days, Song Ke encounters a troublesome man. The man has a broken leg, and speaks weakly as if on the verge of death, yet there’s a smile at the corner of his mouth that is strangely beguiling.

“Little girl, I have nothing to offer you in return. How about offering myself to you?”

Suspiciously eyeing him for a couple of seconds, Song Ke slowly summons her spiritual tool.

“Speak up, how do you want to… die?”

One thing leads to another, and her adventurous path… takes a peculiar turn? She ends up gathering a series of strange teammates.

A year after the apocalypse, a bizarre rumor circulates among the major surviving bases:

It’s said that the top-ranked awakener team “V587” on the scoreboard are all burly and sturdy, capable of frightening children with their bear-like physiques and iron-like strength.

Their name alone exudes power: V587, how commanding and domineering!

V587 punches the Zombie King, kicks mutant beasts, robs the Death Prison of Sin City, and KOs the tyrannical rulers of District C with one move!

No matter how difficult the mission, it’s flawlessly cleared when it falls into their hands.

Their feats become the talk of the Alliance, earning admiration from countless ability users.

Until the grand opening of the inaugural global awakeners challenge, the enigmatic V587 members gather, making their first appearance.

The crowd’s faces turn dumbfounded, “Wait, who are these elderly, young, sick, and two wheelchair-bound cripples? V587? Nooo!”

Overpowered Stutterer x Cunning Smiling Tiger

【Reading Guide】

This is not a space-oriented story. It’s set in an alternative future with a significant technological gap (about 50 years ahead) and uses fictional terms with no direct prototypes.

Combines superpowers with cyberpunk elements, featuring a main storyline alongside team adventures.

Team recruitment is relatively slow at the beginning. The protagonist’s team consists of 7 members, each with their own flaws.

“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.