Surviving in Woman's world as a novel villain. - Chapter 243 241. Tug War

In the first year of the fire calendar, a large-scale spiritual recovery has occurred around the world.

One year after the fire calendar, the Jingwei Division was established and began to contain supernatural beings on a large scale.

After three years of the fire calendar, Xun Xi traveled to this world full of despair. However, in front of him, there is only a diary written by himself before his death, who claims to be the future.

The diary revealed his future death.

In other words, every line and every sentence in the diary is his masterpiece.

And it will be updated!

“Others are the favored sons of the heavens who have traveled through the world. Wherever they go, they will be followed by chance. Why is it only me, where I will die wherever I go, I am just a rebel, a version orphan.”

“unfair!”

…………

Carrying a future diary in his arms, Xun Xi is struggling to survive in this desperate world. He firmly believes: My future style, I am the master!

- Description from novelbuddy

Chen Han was a genius and hard-working boy. When he defeated a young master of a prominent family, he was attacked in retaliation. His dantian was shattered and he fell into Jianyuan. He was reshaped by a mysterious entity with the true spirit of his life, and he cultivated the techniques of the Peerless Heart and The Emperor.

With peerless mentality and supreme combat skills, he fought fiercely in the world, swept the six lower realms, and galloped across the three higher realms.

When countless treasures of heaven and earth, divine weapons and sharp weapons are in the bag, when countless beautiful women return to the harem, and when countless strong men are completely annihilated, this vast world would be under my feet!

Codename-Anastasia

“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.