Untouched by the Outbreak - Chapter 37 - - Morning Preparations and Protective Charms

Leonardo Anderson awakened one of the rarest Classes in existence — Beast Tamer.It should have been the beginning of his rise.Instead, it became the reason he was betrayed.Framed for stealing an A-Class Monster egg, stripped of his rights, and sentenced to lose his Class to the most powerful family in City Z, Leonardo was supposed to disappear quietly.But on the day everything was taken from him—A new System awakened.One that allows him to add a new talent or skill to his monster every single day.An ordinary owl becomes an S-Class predator.A fugitive becomes something far more dangerous.In a city where Awakeners kill each other in the shadows and justice belongs to the rich, Leonardo has only one rule:Survive.Level up.And never be powerless again.

Modesty! Honesty! Compassion! Bravery! Justice! Sacrifice! Honor! Faith!He is a lich, yet he upholds the knightly spirit!He is a lich, yet he remains steadfast in his faith of light!“With a formidable enemy at hand, fearless and unobstructed! Daring and loyal, worthy of the Holy Spirit! Loyal and upright, willing to die unyielding! Protecting the weak, never going against heaven's principles!”Standing at the top of the world, no matter how great the storm, nothing can stop him from following the steps of the Holy Spirit! Not even the Holy Spirit!...This is a romantic legendary story of a chatty cat and a lich who dedicates his body and soul to the light!Yes, “romantic,” not deceiving you! That's just how it 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.

The pessimistic and negative daughter of a concubine living in the ancient times thought – since life is so difficult, why should one invest serious effort in struggling to live?

The life of an ancient noble woman is often determined and controlled by her family. Moreover, one’s actions often implicate one’s entire family – thus, it is fairly common to see an unexpected calamity result in suffering borne by one’s whole family. Managing to live a good and successful life while retaining one’s dignity is simply too difficult to achieve.

Ah, living in the ancient times is simply too dangerous – we should all just sleep till we die.

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