Mistress Of The Evil Forest - Case 150: Not Deer.

Through a chaotic world rife with war, where demons roamed freely, he found himself in the body of the patriarch of the Luo family, whose life was nearing its end, with one foot already in the grave.Just after arriving, he was about to die?What kind of mortal suffering was this?Just as Luo Changfeng felt bewildered and on the brink of despair, he discovered that he could actually consume the vital energy of the Luo Family members to increase his attributes.A little tap, and his lifespan grew.A little tap, and his cultivation soared.A little tap, and his cultivation technique reached perfection.Thus, Luo Changfeng embarked on a path of empowering his family, continually drawing upon their vitality to strengthen himself.

In the year 2139, the world changed. Fundamentally and irrevocably.

Everything happened too quickly. The sky cracked like an egg and armored dinosaur-like monsters lurched out of the fissure. The split, though small at first, quickly widened. Within a few short hours, these beasts had overrun the world.

Countries, even those who had been enemies for centuries, sounded a global alarm. Political differences were cast aside as humans scrambled to find a solution—any solution—to what became known as the Great Disaster 1.0.

Human experimentations began, first in reluctance, then in earnest. As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, failure rates remained high. Desperate for results, global authorities started turning a blind eye to how experimental subjects were sourced.

Countless victims were kidnapped and trafficked to state-run laboratories. Shi Tian was but one of them. But unlike those who died nameless, in pain, and unrecognizable, he had the fortune of surviving after being injected with humanity’s last hope—an integrated chip.

Except… the chip remained dormant. It seemed that certain circumstances must be met before the chip could be activated. What those circumstances were, even the scientists in charge could not answer.

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At the heart of a wish lies an attempt at completion, a human desire to become our true and final selves. Wishes are fuelled by regrets and are bound eternally to the past, serving as approximations of what once was. We all experience regret and nostalgia, leading us to make wishes and find despair, but can we become our true selves despite this all?That's where the story of a girl who struggles to control her desires begins...Two souls sharing the same body and memory are living in Kyoto 2031. Tang-Ji Shizukesa, a girl who's grown up in her previous life with a hardcore passion for gaming, is now a bookworm in her new life who has no interest in video games. Along with her, Kazami and Hoyeon, the three childhood friends who separated 7 years ago due to an accident, have now been reunited again in a VRMMORPG game known as Dusk Protocol. The game has a unique combat system known as “Leere,” a physical manifestation of an individual soul that can be conjured into deadly weapons.As Tang-Ji navigates this virtual world, she confronts the echoes of her past and the dissonance between her former self and her present identity. How will she cope with the rediscovery of a life she thought she left behind? How will Kazami and Hoyeon react to the new Tang-Ji? In a world where reality is malleable and death is just a click of a button away, the boundaries between past and present blur, forcing everyone to grapple with the truth of who they truly are.Disclaimer: This novel contains explicit language, violence, racism, and sexual scenes. There are also scenes that deal with various traumas, from physical to emotional to mental.(THE CHARACTERS’ CIRCUMSTANCES , TRAITS, AND BELIEFS IN THIS NOVEL ARE ALL BASED ON A TRUE STORY.)

“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.