NBA: No. 1 Forward - Chapter 561: Seriously, You’ll Lose

Alexander, a world-class sales training expert and a holder of the Social Tyrant certification, found himself transported to a parallel universe, entering a world that seemed straight out of a horror story.

However, this world wasn't as terrifying as he had initially thought. In this realm, being a social maestro meant you could do almost anything you pleased.

Leveraging his exceptional social skills, Alexander turned even the most fearsome ghosts into friends. Moreover, as his rapport with them grew, he received additional rewards.

Affinity Level 60

Headless Ghost: “If you like, I can give you this head as a keepsake.”

Affinity Level 100

Female Ghost Teacher: “Darling, stay with me tonight, and let me show you what the Ice and Fire truly feel like!”

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Fate weaves its tapestry in shadows and light, guiding our steps through the dance of destiny.“Ace of Fate” is an action, romance, and fantasy novel that follows Felix and Miku Yotsuba, both of whom struggle to comprehend human emotions. Miku is a cold-hearted woman, while Felix is a childish man, and both have lost someone dear to them.Felix is a solitary man living away from society. When he meets Miku, his life begins to change dramatically. As their relationship develops, both characters slowly discover and explore human emotions. The story unfolds, taking readers on a journey of self-discovery, redemption, and the unpredictable nature of fate. With its compelling blend of intrigue and personal struggle, the novel boasts rich lore and plenty of action.In the world they inhabit, people possess a unique energy in their soul called Zor energy, which is not elemental magic but a completely new power system.

“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.