Terror Infinity - Vol 23 Chapter 12-3: Face Off between Brother and Sister... and Team Africa's Final Song(III)

800 years ago, 3000 dimensional gates opened across the entire world. In that moment, it was as if 3000 different colored eyes opened across the world as hordes of monsters swarmed out of these gates like tears.

Some could destroy city walls with one strike; They had bodies the size of a giant and fed on humans

Some latched onto humans, absorbing their bodies’ nutrients and enslaving humans

Some infiltrated the humans’ cities, disguising themselves as normal human beings while feeding upon human blood to sustain themselves.

In a night, the Human race fell to the bottom of the food chain.

The world had turned into a paradise for monsters…

Deek has never had success with the ladies. He’s poor, overweight, and generally unliked. Feeling like a burden on his mother, with his life going nowhere, he spends his days playing video games. However, when a mysterious game ends up in his bag, he is teleported to another world. The only way for a talentless slob like him to get by is to venture into dangerous dungeons for fame and money. Regrettably, Deek always preferred to play support roles, and in this case he picked White Mage. In a world with slavery, where he can purchase beautiful and powerful women as his allies, this might actually work.

Tags: Isekai, Slice-of-life, RPG, Weak-Protagonist, Comedy, Harem, Large-Harem, Slavery, Romance, Animalgirls, Monstergirls, Dungeons, Drama, Erotica, Growing-protagonist

“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.

I possessed the weakest character in my favorite game’s Hell Mode. I want to survive, but the way the main character is being controlled is atrocious.

It can’t be helped.

I have to stop the bad ending myself.