I Became a Vicious Supporting Role in the '70s - Chapter 189: Meeting Your Auntie

After hatching endless plots and suffering innumerable hardships, the demons of the Demonic Realm finally managed to resurrect the Ancient Demon King.

The demons of the Demonic Realm had hoped that the Ancient Demon King would not only lead them in waging a war against the Heavenly Realm and enable them to lord their superiority over the Immortals, he would also ultimately gain control over the entire realm.

Gradually, however, they discovered that their thoughts were very, very wrong.

Whilst it is true that this Ancient Demon King still retains his aura of superiority and possesses unlimited powers, he…

He seems to be a mental case…

It’s alright even if he changes orders and does things in an incomprehensible way.

But what’s with his habit of muttering under his breath, nagging and conversing with himself the entire day!

Small Orchid: He’s not ill, he’s just despicable (贱jian)…can’t stand to see (见jian) people live a good life.

Dong Fang: I am only unable to endure seeing you live a good life.

Small Orchid: …

*T/N: The Chinese pronunciation for the word “despicable” is the same as the word “see” – thus, the author is trying to show that Small Orchid, while trying to scold Dong Fang, is also careful not to incur his wrath, which is why she tried to imbue another meaning into her sentence after scolding him.

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.

Liora was a pampered royal princess, with loving parents at the forefront and eleven royal brothers at her back. Always adorned with the finest silk and served with exquisite dishes while lounging in her palace.Her biggest concerns? Which dress to wear for a banquet and how many more hours she could nap before her royal duties caught up to her.But fate (or some seriously bad karma) had other plans. One moment, she was sipping fine wine and but the next moment-boom!—she wakes up in a world where people are eating each other, the sky is covered with ominous veils that look like it wants to swallow the world, and worse, her royal status means absolutely nothing.What she can tell more about her poor condition is that she has no servants, no food, and no idea how to fight off the disgusting zombies, who are trying to take a bite out of her.Just when she’s ready to scream at the heavens for an explanation, a cold mechanical voice rings in her head:[Welcome, Host. You have activated the Overlord System.]Overlord? That sounds powerful, right? Wrong. Turns out, she starts at the bottom of the food chain with no powers, no weapons, and zombies that see her as their next snack.While others awaken abilities like fire manipulation or super strength, she gets... a system that gives missions with questionable rewards and always tries to drown her in a huge debt.Fight a Level 2 Zombie with her bare hands? Sure, why not? Survive hordes of zombies while the system nags her? Classic. But as she battles to level up and gathers allies (some willing, some just too scared to say no). She realizes—maybe she isn’t as weak as she thought.Because when the world falls into chaos, only the strongest can rule. And if the system insists on calling her an Overlord, well… she might as well live up to the name.Power, danger, and a system that may or may not be trying to get her killed—welcome to the apocalypse.

In my last life, it was difficult to have a child. In this life, I was given three radish heads as soon as I passed it, and there was an extra head. I thought my husband was a rough guy, but I didn’t expect a tough guy to have tenderness.

- Description from novelbuddy