Ghost Story Club - Chapter 68: Tenth Ghost Story – Minecraft’s Herobrine (1)

Initially, Lin Mo intended to become stronger through cultivating diligently. However, he discovered that staying idle was more comfortable. Most importantly, he could level up by doing nothing! Since he could achieve his goals by lying idle, why would he trouble himself to stand and work?

Lin Mo transmigrated to a martial arts world and realized that he had no talent in cultivating at all. Fortunately, he awakened the Idle Upgrade System. He could become stronger by staying away from the rat race and enjoying life.

Lin Mo lamented, “It’s not that I don’t want to work hard, but truly, there is no opportunity for me to do so.” As such, the most bizarre Martial Arts Saint in human history was born.

Being given a chance and reincarnated is nice and all, yet why do I have to become that male friend who just watches the protagonist flirting with his harem?---World: Kaguya-sama: Love Is War - Hyouka ----

Those Years I Opened a Zoo

Duan Jiaze, who was poor, inherited a private zoo after graduation, and was forced to download a “hooligan” APP called “Ling Xiao Hope Project”, which ushered in other “animals” such as Luya (golden crow), Daji (nine tailed fox), Bai Suzhen (white snake) and Black Bear. App will punish if he fails to complete its business-related tasks regularly.

In this way, Director Duan was like ”a duck driven onto a perch”, and began his journey of unifying the world’s demons while journeying on a road to be becoming famous.

- 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.