The Experimental Log of the Crazy Lich - Chapter 753 - Public Enemy #1

First, this isn’t a story about how to seek survival during Doomsday! It’s rather about how to bring about the end of of times, to bring down the curtain on the world. It’s about how to set off a Zombie frenzy, how to lead the Devil into invasion, and how to guide the descent of Zerg! In this game of doom, I’m the source of everything!

Second, I need to thank those brethren who accompanied me until now. My thanks go to the Lich Monarch, Arthas Menethil (game: World of Warcraft), bringer of endless winter and death; to Alex Mercer (game: Prototype), who created life by consuming viruses; to the Worst Spirit Tokisaki Kurumi (Light Novel: Date a Live), controller of time; to the Magus Ascendant Xerath (Game: League of Legends), imprisoned by runes.

Ladies and Gentlemen, lets bring about a carnival of doom!

- Description from Novelupdates

Yuri traveled to the Star Railway World and obtained the “Mall of All Worlds” system.Through the system, Yuri can sell items from all over the world and invite guests from other worlds to come to the Star Rail.His first encounter comes with a space traveler by the name of Kevin, and soon...many new experiences begin..Every time the turnover reaches a certain amount, Yuri will receive a reward from the system.What journey will be uncovered...?

Long Fei, a cross-timer and doujin, is an otaku who traveled to another world. In the original world, he was an otaku fan of Gundam and military science fiction.

He died in an accident and was reincarnated into another world. The Gundam works he had read before his death and the techniques in various military novels could be brought to another world.

How would he use the Gundam that Long Fei created? What waves can be caused in this different world?

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.