The Boss Lost His Memory and Only Remembers Me - Chapter 226

I have clairvoyance, and I can see antique treasures no matter where they are hidden. Is there anything else in the world that I can’t go to?

- Description from novelbuddy

Alex was just trying to escape his dead-end job and overbearing family. Then the System arrived, bringing with it magic, Rifts, and the chance for ordinary people to become extraordinary. Unfortunately for Alex, his stats started out as unimpressive as his old life. But when he gains the unique trait {Primordial Will}, which only allows him to put his free points into one stat, everything changes—though not necessarily for the better.Thrown into a dangerous Rift way above his pay grade, Alex quickly discovers that surviving the chaos isn't just about having powerful skills. He'll need every ounce of his Willpower and resourcefulness if he wants to make it out alive and bring home the rewards that could finally give him an edge.This series follows Alex as he begins to master the art of Mana Threads and creates a revolutionary new magic system with Spell Circles. He starts to realize that magic isn’t just a tool—it’s a path to power that few can fully grasp. But with the world’s governments struggling to contain the rising number of superhuman threats, Alex will have to navigate more than just monsters and Rifts. In a world where “might makes right,” who really calls the shots?

Raon’s entire life had been lived as a dog on a leash.

Through a twist of fate, he obtained a new life.

Wrath remained in the wreckage of his destroyed leash.

Finally capable of standing on his own feet, he decided to live life by his own will.

He would slay anyone standing in his way…

Even if they were a god.

“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.