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... orea. The venue’s interior was a bit on the old-fashioned side, but that contributed to the overall atmosphere being a bit more classier, or so he thought.

‘Gimme a freaking break, though.’ (Choi Jeong-Hoon)

When he thought about how all those flashily-decorated walls and expensive-looking antiques symbolised the blood and sweat of this nation’s citizens, then forget about being classy and whatnot, he felt this compulsion to wreck everything he could see.

‘No, hang on. I ...

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Xu Xing Zhi wrote in his story: At the mountain, near the ocean was a group of villains, they are cute and clever. They are fantastic oddities of every description, they are industrious and conscientious, they want to escape from the prison.

Afterward, he transmigrated into the story. The world said: Your presence disrupted the balance of the world.

You will have to kill those villain bosses that escaped from the prison.

Xu Xing Zhi said: “Sorry, I am a salted fish.”

The world said: “It’s alright, the villain is your junior brother that you pampered from young, he listens to you the most.”

Xu Xing Zhi: …… I did not write this.

Boss with a gentle face: “ Senior brother, you love this gold necklace or this silver necklace? You slowly choose, I will listen to you.”

Xu Xing Zhi: “….. I really did not write this.

-this, was all you wished.

Meng Zhong Guang softly said: “… but if I lost Senior Brother, I really will have nothing left.”

This heart, ridding with gaping wounds, filled with pus and sore, had truly loved you before.

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“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.

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