When system cheat becomes rampant! - Chapter 18 - : Literary Dao and Martial Dao

Elaine Monroe never meant to fall in love with him. She never meant for her heart to betray her like this. But as she watches him stand beside another, hand resting on the waist of the woman he’s meant to be with, she wonders if she was always destined to be the outsider.“You knew,” she says, voice barely above a whisper. “You knew how I felt.”His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t deny it. He never does.“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” he finally says.She laughs bitterly. “I know.”Loving him was always impossible. He belonged to someone else. To his family’s expectations. To a future where Elaine had no place.“Forget whatever you think you feel,” he tells her, voice firm, but there’s something unspoken in his eyes—something that makes it hurt even more. “It will never happen.”And yet, his gaze lingers, just for a second too long.Then there’s her best friend—the one who stands beside her when the world turns its back. The one who sees her pain without asking.“You don’t have to do this to yourself,” he says, handing her his jacket on a cold night. “You deserve more than waiting for someone who will never be yours.”She wants to believe him. She wants to move forward. But some loves are impossible to forget. Some wounds never truly heal. And some desires, no matter how forbidden, refuse to die._____“loving him best decision i ever made” Elaine“you are my world”

Growing up in poverty, Sunny never expected anything good from life. However, even he did not anticipate being chosen by the Nightmare Spell and becoming one of the Awakened - an elite group of people gifted with supernatural powers. Transported into a ruined magical world, he found himself facing against terrible monsters - and other Awakened - in a deadly battle of survival.
What's worse, the divine power he received happened to possess a small, but potentially fatal side effect...

In the midst of a mall parking lot turned battleground, Korig stands with a crowbar in his hands, blood-stained and bewildered.

Chaos reigns as the world crumbles into a nightmare of undead horrors.

Amid the panic, a digital screen materializes, thrusting Korig into a twisted game of survival.

“Main Objective: Survive the Zombie Apocalypse for an hour.”

“Bonus quest: Kill 100 zombies.”

The countdown begins, and Korig must navigate the terror around him, battling both the flesh-hungry undead and the enigmatic rules of a malevolent system.

As time slips away, Korig's past and present collide, revealing secrets that could be the key to his survival.

Will he conquer the unholy countdown, or become another victim in this relentless System Mania?

……………………………………………………………

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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.