How to Survive at the Academy - Chapter 243-2

[Post-apocalyptic + System Space + Stockpiling + Base Building + Strong Female Lead + Reverse Harem + Not a Mary Sue]Who says a five-year-old can only be a burden?Cloud Xiaoxiao, a formidable survivor in the post-apocalyptic world, is reborn six days before the apocalypse hits. Unloved by both parents and unwanted after their divorce, she decides to take matters into her own hands.At just five years old, she goes on a rampage. She empties out her father’s supermarkets and 4S car dealerships, landing him in the hospital.Armed with a super system in a world ravaged by zombies, extreme temperatures, and acid rain, she hoards enough supplies to last several lifetimes. She becomes a base-building maniac, constructing the strongest fortress in the post-apocalyptic world.Sunny Boy Next Door: “Little one, want big brother to sing you a lullaby?”Unlucky Bandit: “Kid, what do you want? I’ll get it for you.”Cool Big Brother: “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”Yandere Hottie: “Little one, call me big brother and I’ll kill them all for you. How about that?”Hot-Tempered Brawler: “Shorty, who’s bullying you? I’ll beat them to death!”…Cloud Xiaoxiao hastily raises her hand, “Stop, stop! I can take on ten at once!”“Whoever dares to bully me, I’ll finish them off myself!”(This story has no romantic pairings. Readers who mind this, please be cautious.)(The female lead appears innocent on the outside but is actually a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Her personality was shaped by the post-apocalyptic world, growing beyond the bounds of normal rules. So she’s a bit ruthless, a bit wild, a bit wicked…)

Wang Yi gets a key, opening a door in 2022 will lead to 1982, and opening a door in 1982 will return to 2022.

Two very different great eras appeared before him:

Abundant dietary protection, developed industrial products, miraculous medicines, and explosive information, this is 2022.

Simple folk customs, rich wild resources, scattered antiques, and treasures of the age, this is 1982.

Traveling between these two eras, Wang Yi didn’t think much of it, he just wanted to live a good life.

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.