I Am Such An Expert; Why Do I Have To Take In Disciples - Chapter 93 - Entering the Imperial Palace for the First Time

In 2120, the level of human science and technology has once again reached a new level.

The birth of a new race, the virtual metaverse world that can make consciousness immortal, the freezing technology that can use time to fight against terminal illness, and the brand-new capital arena… Dazzlingly appeared before the eyes of the natives of the earth.

How can humans and AI coexist? Which one is more dignified, life by idling or natural death?

Confusion, confrontation, venting, and shouting seem to have become the norm… On Zhang Yunxi’s eighteenth birthday, his whole family was killed by a nanny. He came to a place called Qingshan Theological Seminary full of doubts.

- Description from novelbuddy

“Each betrayal leaves a scar… and hers ran the deepest.”Once, Aveline Laurent gave her heart to Damien Ashford - the man who promised her a future, only to cage her with sweet lies.She endured it all with a smile… until fate dragged her back to the very beginning.Now, with a second chance hanging by a fragile thread, Aveline returns.Not to plead, but to punish.
Not to forget, but to make him remember.But revenge is never simple. The path is fraught with shadows—and an unlikely ally–Alaric Lancaster–whose loyalties remain as mysterious as his gaze.

“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.

“You dragged me into this world. Now you kneel in it.” — Tim SlokovBy day, Tim Slokov was a quiet office drone. By night, a ruthless online critic of fantasy novels. But when a mysterious force transmigrates him into the dying body of an elven outcast—doomed and powerless—Tim realizes he’s become the tragic background character of someone else’s story.Only he refuses to die quietly.Denied justice, Tim is granted a single gift: the Shattered Necromancy System, a broken power fueled by death itself.[Seek Me, O Death — Passive]: Every kill becomes a servant. Every soul feeds his army.[Death Embrace — Active]: He becomes what he commands—gaining the power of his dead.[Arise — Active]: The battlefield becomes his stage, where his fallen rise again.Armed with cursed power, Tim must evolve himself—and his ever-growing legion of the dead—to claw his way up a world that wants him erased. But vengeance is only the beginning. As his strength grows, so does the truth behind his forced arrival... and the god-like force that wants him broken.Tim isn’t here to play the hero.He’s here to rewrite fate—one death at a time.