You Are My Gravity - Chapter 580

Rules exist to be broken, and every loophole is a weapon. Trust no one, and annihilate those who deserve revenge.Granger Reiner never asked to be a champion, but fate chose him as the 101st contender for the goddess of Ascension—a deity mocked as the weakest among the pantheon, with 100 failed champions in just five months.Armed with a unique system and the ability to create barriers, Granger is thrust into Agrasia, a world teeming with treachery, to compete against other champions and conquer the Endless Dungeon.What he discovers is far worse than he could imagine: betrayal lurks at every corner, allies are fleeting, and the game is rigged.Learning the hard way that fairness has no place in a world built on lies, Granger transforms his weakness into his greatest strength. With vengeance as his driving force, he sets out to destroy the system, expose the truth, and turn the goddess’s mockery into triumph.In a world where everyone is an enemy, the 101st champion will stop at nothing—even if it means taking on the world itself.

“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 am the most talented guardian of this era!

But no one knows, I still have a second template, the knife cuts the flesh, the intention cuts the soul!

You may have seen the meatless juggernaut, but you have never seen a full-time meat shield with an explosive attack!

- Description from novelbuddy

On one spring evening when I was eight years old, I, Erica, Duke of Aurelia’s daughter, realized something.