The Cannon Fodder Turns His Sister Into A Soaring Phoenix - Chapter 2: Little Sister Has Grown Up

“Look at him,” someone snickered from a few rows over. “Smells like he sleeps in a dumpster.”“Probably does,” another voice added, louder this time. Nox just stared at his textbook, the words blurring. He had heard it all before.Then, Mark, one of the main reasons his life was a living hell, swaggered past his desk. Mark always had a smirk on his face. “Oops,” he said, not even trying to sound accidental, as a full cup of bright orange juice tipped over, splashing all down the front of Nox's already ruined shirt. The cold liquid soaked through instantly. Laughter erupted around the room. It was loud, clear, and mocking. Nox slowly looked up. His eyes landed on Ms. Joy, who was watching the whole thing. She had seen Mark deliberately pour the juice on him. He raised his hand, a small, tired gesture. “Ms. Joy,” he said, his voice flat. “He just poured juice on me. Are you just going to ignore it? Again?.” Ms. Joy looked at him, then at Mark, who was now theatrically wiping his hands. A small smile played on her lips. Then she chuckled. Just a little airy laugh.“Oh, Nox, don't be so dramatic. Boys will be boys, right Mark?” Mark puffed out his chest. “Yeah, Ms. Joy. He's just sensitive.” The class laughed even harder at that. Ms. Joy joined in, her laughter ringing out with theirs. Hearing them all, hearing her laugh, something in him finally snapped. It wasn't a loud break, more like a quiet, final click. He realized it then, with a cold, hard clarity. No one was coming to save him. No teachers, no police, no parents he never had. No one cared. If he wanted this to stop, he would have to be the one to stop it. He was the only one who could.His face remained blank, but his mind was suddenly very clear. He reached down slowly, his hand going into his worn-out school bag. The laughter died down a little as a few students noticed his deliberate movement, a strange stillness about him. He pulled out a gun.The classroom went silent. Utterly, completely silent. Mark's smirk vanished, replaced by wide, terrified eyes. Even Ms. Joy stopped laughing, her face paling. “What… Nox, what are you doing?” she stammered, her voice suddenly shaky. He didn't answer. He looked around at their faces, one by one. Fear. He saw fear now. Good. He was ready. He was going to make them all pay. He was going to end it, all of it.Just as he was about to raise the gun properly, a bright blue screen appeared right in front of his face. It was translucent, and only he seemed to see it. [Congratulations! You have met the requirements!] [1st Player Chosen!] [You have won the System!]

Transmigrated to the Cultivation World.

Initially, I thought I would have to fight those fierce cultivators to the death, struggling for the slim chance of obtaining immortality.

Unexpectedly, I came equipped with an endless-lifespan panel.

What should I do now that I've suddenly become ageless?

“Countless living beings fight each other to the death in order to become immortal.”

“That's because their lifespans are limited, if they don't fight, they'll die!”

“But I'm different.”

“If I go and fight, that's when I'll really die.”

“As long as I can endure and slowly cultivate, one day I'll become an immortal.”

This is a story of an everlasting being who endures his way to immortality in the Cultivation World.

……………………………………………………………

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Her rebirth gave her a second chance at life. She was back with a vengeance and wanted to make those that had harmed her pay. But to those that helped her, she wanted to repay them. Her evil stepmother? She would slowly pull out her claws, one by one. Her evil stepsister? She would crush her pride. She thought that by getting her revenge for her past life, she would be happy in this life. However, she never would have thought that danger would chance upon her time and time again. The hatred from her clan and whether their bloodline would continue to exist, lay solely on her shoulders. Luckily, on this thorny path, someone had always been protecting her. “Third Prince, have you ever regretted being with me?” That person laughed lightly and peered at her with a loving yet weary look, “As long as I am together with you, I have no regrets.”

There’s a trend infecting stories lately—all because of boys reading these stories rather than men.Villains who think being “dark” means having dead eyes, a tragic past, and a dick that solves all problems.They get betrayed once, and suddenly it's their life's mission to destroy the world—or worse, emotionally blackmail heroines in the name of “revenge.”Slap on a black coat, stare at walls, say something like “love is weakness”—and boom, readers start calling them “deep.”But let’s be honest:> They’re not villains. They’re just edgy losers with a god complex and a hard-on trying to satisfy the inferiority of their readers.Some of them turn so cold, they forget why they started. Others get so lust-drunk, they think sleeping with a heroine is “domination.”That making her cry is “control.” They think power is measured by how many women they can ruin. But really?> They’re just boys trying to look like men.Just like their followers who are the boys who hide their masculinity inside a woman's virginity.They go around in the review section asking if the women of the main character would be stolen and all... giving it fantasy names like NTR and all nonsense.As if they want to scream their fear out.“Please don't, I hate it... because I am a gay who doesn't even have the confidence that my woman will remember me once she gets someone better....” one of the loser’s internal thoughts.They don't want their puny hearts to be crushed.Their masculinity is so weak that it crumbles the moment they think about some other man having the women they love and her forgetting those boys for the men.And they just project that weakness of themselves in their main characters, thinking that just like them, their main characters should be weak, should be a fantasy monger who hoards women like trying to hide the incapabilities of those followers who never in their life would have held a hand of a woman.Harem has now become a way to satisfy weak audiences who feel more women mean more security for their hearts.Forgetting that Harem in truth means the masculinity is so HUGE that it needs an ocean of FEMININE to hold.Tch, not like the boys with breakups and fear of being cucked will ever realize.They treat fantasy as escape and character as their way to feel that they are men.So, naturally, to have such a huge amount of followers, authors are forced to pour the density of such books holding such weak characters in the form of the cold MC who collects harem, manipulates one or two, fucks around, and finally satisfies readers until they feel bored and drop the book....Because to those followers, they themselves realize in the long run that the story isn't satisfying even if the villain is the same cruel man.So why?Simply because they were until now reading kind boys wearing the mask of a man, and acting as a villain.Their MC, just like them, doesn't even know themselves, their needs, and what their inner soul wants... not understanding that...Fucking a woman doesn't make you her god. Breaking her spirit doesn't make you a king. And calling yourself a villain just because you were too weak to heal?That’s not power—that’s coping.And for followers—that's doping.Real villains? They don’t whine. They don’t treat women like checkboxes or trophies. They don’t mistake lust for legacy.> They don’t need to act cruel. They are cruel. Calm. Focused. Dangerous in silence. They don’t need to chase power—they embody it.This story isn’t about a guy who gets played and suddenly thinks he’s entitled to vengeance sex.This is about a villain who doesn’t....Ah, screw this shit. Just read the story already![ No Dumb Heroines ] [ No Cliche Plot ] [ Original Content ] [ Fan Services here and there ] [ R-18 might not come soon enough ] [ Yandere ] [ Tsundere ] [ MILF ] [ Dragon ] [ Elves ]