Third Life Reincarnation: Finally Born Into a Magical World - Chapter 71: The Interruption of Wolf Sky Mercenary Corps (Part-2)

“Help me, please,” Bella pleaded, grasping his hands.His dark eyes, devoid of warmth, pierced through hers with an unsettling coldness. “Why should I mess with those goons to help you?” he asked callously.“I’ll do anything you say,” she said without thinking, desperate. “Just save me from them.”He demanded something that Bella had never anticipated even in her dreams.A contract marriage!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Bella Dawn was already in distress to pay her step father’s debts. To add her misery, her mother was diagnosed with liver disease and needed immediate transplant.Where would she get that much money?Then, like a cruel twist of fate, she accidentally encountered a handsome man, Theodore Reid, the enigmatic CEO of Ace Group.Rumors said that he was a ruthless businessman with a heart as cold as ice. Yet, to Bella, he was kind, rescuing her from the clutches of those who sought to exploit her.She was grateful to him until he demanded something weird, shattering her pervious assumptions. He wanted to marry her.NoHe wanted a contract marriage.In exchange, he would take care of her mother's treatment and compensate her generously at the end of their arrangement.For Theodore, it was a solution born out of necessity, a means to appease his grandfather's demands for an heir while he searched for the one who had once saved him, his angel.Bella’s appearance reminded him of his savior. So, he offered her a contract marriage. It was a temporary solution to his grandfather’s demand to get an heir until he found his angel.With no other options left, Bella reluctantly agreed to the terms of the contract. But little did she know it would test her resolve and resilience like never before.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~“Remember one thing, never fall in love with me,” he said, cold and dangerous.Bella gulped, nervous. “What if I do?” A sliver of defiance, a foolish question escaped her lips. She was already attracted to his handsome appearance.He squeezed her jaw and hissed, “You will regret it.”“What if you started liking me?” she dared to ask.He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear. “No chance,” he scoffed. “You're not my type.”Bella’s heart sank.

Orlax Tirshtain is the villain in the global game [Unification of Empires]. The tyrannical, cold-blooded emperor is a man who slaughtered his own family with his own hands and ascended the throne with their blood—a power-obsessed madman. Despite five years having passed since the game’s release, no one has been able to defeat this lunatic. So, how the hell did I become this damned?????

I’m a high school student who became an author after debuting at Dengeki Bunko. After taking a year of hiatus from school to write my work, I transferred out to another high school to study, and met a girl called Eri Nitadori in school, a rookie voice actress cast as a character in the anime adaptation of my work.

In school, we treat our professions as a secret. However, Nitadori’s very popular in class, and I’m a loner…the only chance we get to talk to each other is when we take the Limited Express train together every Thursday, seated side by side as we head off for an anime, After Recording.

To improve her skills, she asked me questions regarding the profession. While I was answering the questions regarding the process–how did it end up like this.

This is what I last remembered before I lost consciousness, and the story of my near-death experience.

“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.