Another Stupid Isekai - Chapter 844 T.D.O.N.B: A Way To Solve The Quarrels

A spin-off of the various works of Kamachi Kazuma. One day, Kamijou Touma (A Certain Magical Index) faced yet another misfortune. His toilet was broken and spraying water everywhere. As he was lamenting his misfortune, suddenly he appeared in a strange place along with Index and Misaka. Soon enough, more strange people begin appearing…

Includes:

A Certain Magical Index

Heavy Object

The Zashiki Warashi of Intellectual Village

The Circumstances Leading to Waltraute’s Marriage

A Simple Survey / A Simple Monitoring

Killer Princess and Deep End

Xie Huaimin who had been jilted, unexpectedly came to the unfamiliar nation of Dong Qi and became Xie Zhaohua, the idiotic Fourth Miss of the Grand Tutor Xie’s family in Dong Qi. Ready to be flexible to her newfound circumstances, she strived to let herself adapt to life in a feudalistic society but her eccentric Second Brother, Xie Zhaoying, implicated her in a complicated web of intricacies. The Zhao family’s party which dominates the court administration, the refined and mysterious teacher Song Zijing from Xi Qi and also Prince Yan, Xiao Xuan, who is remotely far away, form a world full of perils and excitement. Miss Xie who is imbued with courage and insensitive yet pure, followed along with Xiao Xuan without second thoughts, throwing herself into the venture of revolution and love.

T/n: The title of the novel originated from a Chinese poem by Yan Jidao.

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.