One Piece: Don't Worry, I'm a Doctor - Chapter 118: Friends? Go to Hell!

Nexus found himself transmigrated into an isekai of magic, where he encountered a captivating Dual Cultivation System. Realizing the importance of this system for his progress, he embarked on a quest to seek out girls who would wholeheartedly participate in the practice of dual cultivation alongside him. Failure to find willing partners meant that his ability to upgrade and advance would be severely hindered.

Unfortunately, it appeared that the inhabitants of this magical isekai realm were oblivious to the concept of dual cultivation.

Thankfully, within this realm, there existed a race known as succubi. These non-human beings possessed the ability to nourish themselves through the consumption of men's semen. Regrettably, they were considered undesirable by humans. Yet, Nexus discovered that he was an exceptional match for these succubi, forming a natural bond that made them highly compatible partners.

Furthermore, Nexus encountered a stark contrast between the techniques described in the Xianxia novel he possessed and the actual magic present within the isekai realm. The disparity was substantial, requiring him to invest a considerable amount of time to acclimate himself to this unfamiliar form of magic.

With his newfound allies, Nexus set out to make a profound impact on this new world.

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Li Xu occasionally got a sign-in system, and his life has been different from now on. Enjoy life, look at the scenery, sign in, spring flowers bloom, and face the sea.

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Recently, Xiang Changkong has been making food deliveries to Xu Lian. After delivering takeout after takeout, he eventually becomes the delivery.

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“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.