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The question threw him slightly off balance, though it wasn’t exactly unexpected. In truth, he might have been more concerned if they hadn’t asked it.

As for the magic itself, it was something Emrys had relied on frequently—closely aligned with his personal style. That much, at least, Lugh had gathered from the elf’s memories.

But if his past experiences were anything to go by, he couldn’t fully trust those memories. That had become a persistent problem. A quiet, festering t ...

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When despair was about to make humanity destroy itself, people began to awaken powers that made them strong enough to deal with the mighty monsters.

These people were called “Awakened Ones”.

Years passed and society got used to dealing with monsters. Children who once dreamed of becoming actors, musicians or youtubers, now dreamed of “Awakening” to receive powers, fight monsters and receive the fame and money that came with this dangerous profession.

Leo was also like those children, and when he turned 17 his powers also awakened, but very different from what he imagined it would be.

[Congratulations, you have awakened the “Hack” power. Your first skill is “Aim-bot.”]

[Aim-bot: Regardless of which weapon you use, no shot will miss.]

And the stronger Leo got, the more powers he would unlock.

“Aim-Bot, Wall Hack, Speed ​​Hack, Fly Hack, Kill-Aura, Teleport Hack… all the hacks people used in games now I can use in real life?!” Leo was shocked when he saw the abilities he would unlock.

“I often heard people say that the world is a playground for rich and powerful people, now this will become my own playground!” Leo told himself a few years ago as a joke, but no one could have imagined that those words would become an absolute truth years later.

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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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