In the Second Generation of the Trench, He Changed To the Ruanfan Script - Chapter 41:

Kisha Aldens is a normal office worker with average earnings, not until she suddenly sees a system countdown in front of her. Her mind suddenly received a prompt warning about the apocalypse and urged her to integrate with the system to assist her with her survival.“Have I overworked myself again?” She thought while pinching the bridge of her nose. She blinked a few more times but the system interface is still there.Little did she know that this system would be her last lifeline in the upcoming apocalypse where human morals would be the lowest, trust is only a word and betrayal could happen in the blink of an eye.A naive person like her had to learn her lesson the hard way on how to survive and navigate in the zombie-infested world. And the worst part, she had to die 99 times to harden her heart and learn how to read the human heart. How will her 100th time be different from the previous lives, will she survive this time?And will survival be her only problem in the heart of the Apocalypse? No, there was a deeper scheme in play which she has to uncover moving forward.

One day, I was given the mysterious power of Hwanmong.

Soyun enters a place called Wonderland inside a book through her dreams but for some reason, Alice was dead?! Soyun is forced to become ‘Alice’ in order to help the winter rabbit in the book and tries her best to escape the book.

“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.