Lord of End of World - Chapter 123

My aunt, the acting regean told me: «Work hard my nephew. You have a royal family to build.»

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A story of reincarnation. A story of growth. A story of love. A story of lust.

After dying a simple death, a boy reincarnated in a new world. A world where magic is common and dragons are real. A world where goddess exists and monsters abound.

This story follows Sol, the son of the hero king. A man who literally saved the world, at the cost of his life.

Watch as he grows and evolves to become his own person, moving from the shadow of his parents and set his own record in history. All the beautiful women he gets along the way is just a bonus.

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Notice:

* — mean that it will be a kinky chapter with some preliminary.
** — mean that’s it will be a kinky chapter with actual sex.

[Double Female Leads + Transmigration + Strong Female Lead]

Warning: This transmigration novel is written in great detail. Readers who prefer the fast-paced rhythm of other transmigration stories should carefully consider whether to read this one.

After the female leads and supporting female characters in the small world gained self-awareness when the novel ended, they gradually could no longer tolerate the scum male leads and turned evil, leading to the destruction of the small world.

Qin Zhao, already on the brink of death in the real world, decided to sign an agreement with the System to restore her lost youth and save the small world.

Every male lead she encountered was more wicked than the last, no wonder the female leads and supporting female characters turned evil.

However, now that Qin Zhao has appeared, of course she will prevent tragedy from happening.

She tirelessly snatches women from the male leads’ hands and comforts restless souls…

“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.

The “S-rank Hero Factory” that raised 1,000 S-rank heroes.

The graduates’ manufacturing machine.

The strongest support.

These are all words that refer to me. But could this actually be the world of that game?