Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World - Chapter 33: The Shark Caught in the Net 2

Eshwar is the name of the author who transmigrated into his own novel after his death. Eshwar’s death was caused by his own magic which he had yet to control. Why? because I didn't think I would seriously die!!!!

Anyway.... my novel's protagonist is a selfish person. why you ask? because I wrote him and I wanted him to be like me. Muhahahaha, ha.

I reincarnated into my novel!

and that to as a villain who dies in the first half, will I stand still and die?

Of course not, I may have reincarnated as a villain but its not like I will live like he did.

I'll live my life as I want! and kill all the other villains.

Why? because I love the world I created, hahaha, ha.... (real reason: I love to fight.), who else will get the chance to look at the world they have created?

System I created is messed up for some reason and is doing everything on its own!!???

we'll see how it turns out with everything messed up, well(sigh...)

Oh, but because i have reincarnated as a villain, I got a new problem and that is,

I'm handsome (sparkles), I have to say, handsome people have their own problems.

In the world of Norse mythology, a human boy falls in love with Waltraute, the fourth Valkyrie sister. He wishes to marry her, but Waltraute gives him an impossible challenge to deter him.

Nevertheless, the boy is determined to carry out the dangerous task and to marry Waltraute afterwards.

“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.

Yun Bixue is in dire straits—