On The Day Of My 100th Blind Date, I Arrested My Date - Chapter 111 - : A Man’s Mouth, A Liar (1)

Echoes of the Lost Elf – Back Cover SynopsisA legend long forgotten. A war long past. A magus who vanished into history.A thousand years ago, Historias Everglen, the greatest magician to ever walk the earth, mysteriously disappeared after leading the world to victory in the First War against the Void. The high elf, creator of Castellas Academy, the most prestigious magic institution, faded into myth—his name spoken only in whispers, his fate unknown.But history does not stay buried forever.When a group of young students, lost in the Everglen Forest, stumbles upon an enigmatic figure in the heart of the ancient woods, they unknowingly awaken an echo of the past. Unrecognized, Historias decides to return to his own academy—not as its master, but as a student. Beneath his youthful guise lies an immortal being who has spent a millennium mastering magic, swordsmanship, and alchemy in solitude.As shadows of the Void begin to stir once more, the world stands on the brink of another catastrophe. Enemies rise, secrets unravel, and forgotten legends take their place in the present. But one question lingers:Will the world recognize its lost protector before it’s too late?

Jeong Jiheon was once a promising swimmer, but retired early due to an injury and is now working diligently at a sports agency. Currently, the greatest interest in the sports market is none other than Kwon Jaekyoung, and numerous agencies are fighting fiercely behind the scenes to scout him.In the meantime, Jiheon is ordered by his boss to somehow arrange a meeting with Jaekyoung, and he miraculously succeeds thanks to their insignificant and brief relationship of going to the same swimming center 10 years ago.However, when they agree to meet for the first time in a long while, Kwon Jaekyoung is not interested in the terms of the contract. He just suddenly asks about Jiheon’s traits….

“I, Eddie Edward, had reincarnated into a world of magic and became the single child of Duke Eddie from the Lancamdo Kingdom.

Fortunately, I was given a system that could collect energy from magical items and turn them into attribute points, skill points, and bloodline points to enhance myself. Knowing that this is a world full of danger and cruelty, I’d decided to become stronger with the help of the system.

On a day like any other, I was given a personal maid. The new maid was acting strangely, but I paid no attention to her weird personality because she was loyal to me.

As days passed by, I began to have more maids around me. However, all of them were strange.

It wasn’t until later I noticed that the maids would leave at night and return reeking of blood.

Naturally, I was curious, but I’d never questioned them as they were my personal maids.

To become stronger, I, Eddie Edward, continued to grow using the system to be not threatened by others in the future.

Until a fateful day…

I learned something important. One of my personal maids was a Fallen Angel?

And the other one was the Lady of the Dark that was being pursued by the Holy Church?

Not only that, but I also heard some of my maids being addressed as the Lord of the Dard?

The Ominous Witch?

The Vampire Queen?

Lady of the Death?

Why did their names sound like they were some antagonists of a novel?

Could it be that all of my personal maids were actually the bad guys of the world I was in?

Not long after that, I was now a wanted person in the Lancamdo Kingdom? Some even began to hail me as the Lord of Evil?

Eddie Edward let out a deep sigh. “Fine. Looks like I can drop the act now.”

With a wave of his arm, the alliance of the mage and knight was wiped out with an asteroid.

“To tell you the truth, I’ve already become the God of Magic.”

“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.