MIGHT AS WELL BE OP - Chapter 404: Bullet

Xia Tian traversed from Earth to the grand world of Jiuzhou, an expansive realm of immortal cultivation.There, he became a prince of the final imperial dynasty in this world of martial immortals.As the dynasty teetered on the brink of collapse, and his life hung by a thread, fate granted him another crossing.This time, he traversed into the Supreme Primordial Realm, an unparalleled world of ultimate power.What’s more, he became one of the ten crown princes of the Celestial Demon Court.Later, Xia Tian obtained a strand of Hongmeng Purple Qi—a primordial essence of the highest order. He presented it to Di Jun, the emperor of the demons and his own father.From that moment, the history of the Primordial Realm took an entirely new course…

Ji Chen Ai has always wanted to be a good person until he was physically disabled for some reason.

When he is being neglected by his parents, Ji Chen Ai just smiles. When he is being bullied by his brother, Ji Chen Ai just smiles. However, when someone pushes him and his wheelchair down the stairs, Ji Chen Ai can’t smile anymore.

But why is it during this time, that something came out suddenly and tells him that he must be a good person?!

System: Our goal is — No! More! Bad! People!

- Description from Novelupdates

Humanity, on the verge of reaching the singularity through AI advancement, fell before it could grasp it.In a cyberpunk world where Seoul—and even all of Korea—no longer exists, a story unfolds of someone living leisurely amidst the chaos.

“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.