THE REAL PROTEGE - Chapter 193: YOU ARE PLAYING WITH FIRE

Su Bai, a novelist from Earth accidentally fell from the top of a cliff.When he woke up, he realised he had already transmigrated to another world. Furthermore, this was not just any world. It was a primitive other world with Humanoids.With his Daily Assistance System and extensive knowledge from modem society, some of which he learnt from being an author, he led his primitive Tribe out of poverty. There, little by little, he started to transform the era, to advance it forward!Uncovering mysterious of Shamans! Meeting more beast eared women! Farming!

In a world where magic is long but a thing of the distant past, where humans have the potential of harnessing a dormant power within them, called Battle Force…

A man from modern day Earth finds himself suddenly waking up in the body of Norton Lorist, a youth of noble descent that had been exiled from his homeland in the North by his family to Morante City, the capital of the Forde Trade Union on the pretext of pursuing his studies.

Little did he know what would await him when he receives summons from his family years later to return to the Northlands and inherit the position of the family head…

This is the tale of his life before the summons…

This is the tale of his journey northward and the allies he gathers along the way…

This is the tale of his rebuilding his family’s dominion and keeping it safe from other power hungry nobles…

This is the “Tales of the Reincarnated Lord”.

Shen Long held a Myriad Beasts Tower, and the Spirit Beasts he reared became increasingly formidable—The Fire Rock Beast transformed into the Fire QilinThe Gold-Winged Windroc into the Thunder RocThe Green-Eyed Spirit Fox into the Nine-Tailed Spirit Fox…Years later.Do you know what Immortal Venerable of the Beast Race is?!

“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.