The General's Daughter Doesn't Want to Get Married! - Chapter 196: A Glimpse of Past

He had crossed into the dark, ruthless Wizard World.Lucien found his system somewhat different from the usual golden finger.System upgrade points? Chip activation?None of these, but rather becoming a role model, transforming into a nurturing breeze:Teaching students knowledge, receiving advanced knowledge in return.Caring for and maintaining students, earning generous rewards.[Your student has mastered the Magic Potion “Kuru's Cough,” congratulations on acquiring the improved formula “Kuru's Cough - Enhanced”!][Your student has mastered witchcraft “Fireball,” congratulations on learning witchcraft “Greater Fireball”!][Your student has successfully crafted the wizard's tool “Pale Mask,” congratulations on acquiring the wizard tool’s manual “Revised Pale Mask”!]Initially, Lucien was resistant.But after experiencing what it was like to teach disciples and outdo them, Lucien felt he had completely transformed into the form of the master system.This thing, isn't it much more useful than something called Cheating Device?

Sivis was transported into the game Gandanyir.In a world where nobles monopolize extraordinary powers while commoners, barely better than pigs and dogs, suffer endless torment, he inherited the title of the Evil God.By continuously slaying enemies, Sivis could earn Soul Points, which allowed him to enhance his monsters.Goblin → Elemental Goblin → High-level Goblin.Skeleton Soldier → Skeleton Mage → Bone Dragon.Stone Golem → Fire Demon → Carved Gargoyle....In order to strengthen his monsters, Sivis started wars, annexed nations, and slaughtered countless nobles and kings.He also casually gathered numerous helpless commoners, bringing them under his domain system, improving agricultural and industrial technologies, ensuring that these people had enough to eat, teaching them to read, and turning them into the creators of his domain's wealth, which he ruthlessly exploited.But... Sivis had two doubts.First, why is it that his subordinates are always bringing him women?First, it was the Saintess from the Church, then a peerless female knight, followed by a princess from the kingdom, a succubus from hell, an angel from the Holy Hall...Second, why, as an Evil God, are countless people calling him the Savior, the Wise King, and the Benevolent Father of all beings???

I fervently critiqued the development of a Sherlock Holmes-based mystery gal game.Villain Maker: Fulfilling the probability of Professor Moriarty’s appearance.Love-Hate Relationship: Becoming ‘that man’ for Holmes.Lady of London: Completing one sham marriage with Watson.Freeze: Receiving a confession from Inspector Lestrade.Phantom Thief’s Treasure: Getting kidnapped by the Phantom Thief Lupin.In doing so, become this twisted world’s very probability.Best wishes, Mr. Isaac Adler.I’m screwed.

“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.