Infinite Competitive Dungeon Society - Chapter 260: Above the Frozen Land (11)

Qin Huai has traveled to a fantasy world where demons are rampant, and heroes coexist. He has no background and no qualifications for cultivation. Until that day he became an apprentice in a pharmacy and began to practice with his brothers.

He discovered that experience balls fell out of his master and senior brothers.

He followed the apprentice to grind the medicine.

“Ding! 【Pharmacy】experience value +3!”

Master and brothers practice martial arts.

“Ding! You picked up a [Nursing Qi Gong Essence (White)], [Nursing Qi Gong] experience value +3!”

He killed the bandits, and actually picked up the opponent’s martial arts.

“Ding! 【Expression Concentration Skill】experience value +13!”

The master said that Qigong is not good at attacking and attacking, there is an upper limit of practice, and it can only prolong life.

But when Qin Huai picked up his experience and forcibly picked up Qi Yang Gong to the 50th floor, the qi in his body was like a real dragon, his pushing hands were like a stormy wave, and his offense and defense were integrated.

People in the world say that the two kinds of exercises are in conflict, and if you practice them forcibly, you will explode and die.

Qin Huai picked up the experience and directly skipped the practice process in one step, without any side effects!

When Qin Huai practiced more and more exercises, he suddenly discovered that those exercises interacted in his body, evolving stronger skills.

…

Qin Huai, who was able to gain experience, began to wander among the various forces.

He saw bones and raw flesh, living another life.

He saw the evil spirit cooking thousands of people, and his evil spirit was soaring.

He saw Buddha statues chanting scriptures in temples, and the Sanskrit sounds were like mantras.

Qin Huai picked up experience silently in order to survive in the troubled times.

- Description from novelbuddy

In the second year of the apocalypse, Du Yue died alone, killed by apathy and exposure to extreme weather. Somehow, she opened her eyes to find herself not only alive, but also back when it was three months before the apocalypse. Despite the surprise, she thought about the upcoming disasters and upheavals. First, it was the fog that carried a virus that stayed for a month.

Then, global temperatures rose to over 120 degrees, evaporating most of the world’s water and melting all the icebergs. After that were level-10 earthquakes, cyclones, tsunamis, permanent eclipse, and avid rain… and that was not all, because after global warming, came global freezing. As temperatures dropped to below negative fifty, the savagery humans displayed was far worse than any imagined horrors like zombies! Knowing what was coming, Du Yue sold off her family property and used the pocket dimension her mother left her to hoard as many resources as possible, so that she could survive the apocalypse. Meat? Grain? Oil? Spices? Weather gear?

She bought everything! Steaks, French fries, spaghetti, and canned food must all be stocked up! To He Xing, the male lead, she was a god and the key to surviving the apocalypse! Having thought of the apocalypse, Du Yue sold off her family property and used the pocket dimension her mother left her to hoard as many resources as possible, so that she could survive the apocalypse. Meat? Grain? Oil? Spices? Weather gear? She bought everything! Steaks, french fries, spaghetti and canned food must all be stocked up! To He Xing, the male lead, she is a god and the key to surviving the apocalypse!

As a human, I should be miles away from any large shifter event. Especially the annual Mate Hunt.A hunt for mates. Doesn't that sound barbaric? Yeah, it's as bad as it sounds.Several packs in the area gather as their newly minted adult wolves shift. Females are let into the woods first and are given an hour's head start, just before sundown. Then it's time for the males, ostensibly thrown out to hunt down the scent of their fated (or chosen) mates.It isn't an event for the faint of heart, and it's definitely no place for someone who can't shift. So why the fuck am I here, running my little human heart out, chased by what sounds like an entire pack of wolves? Great question. I don't know, either.But I'm here.Surrounded by howls fueled by the thrill of the hunt.Feet bleeding. Lungs freezing.I am so fucked.----R18. Dark themes, including but not limited to: Murder, attempted murder, a stack of dead bodies, betrayal, mild sociopathy, an ML who appears to bathe in red flags despite his favorite color being green, an unwarranted hatred of blueberry muffins, and pillow thievery.

“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.