Infinite Mana In The Apocalypse - Chapter 3881: The Living That Are Bound! V

“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.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”

The world of Wageah was vast. It was filled with ancient magic, fallen gods, legendary mages, and exciting adventures.Earthlings summoned there gained godlike power.Zeus, Odin, Count Dracula, the Monkey King. All of them were humans who returned from Wageah and became legends on Earth.But my class and I, who were summoned to Wageah?We were enslaved.We were used, discarded, and left to die.But fate gave me another chance.I woke up as a newborn on Earth with all my memories intact. And soon after…[Awakening Supreme God's Treasure: Shadow][System Boot Successful]I gained strongest weapon in existence. [Shadow]. The treasure of the Supreme God.This time, I’ll grow stronger from the cradle. And when I return to Wageah—I won’t be a slave.I’ll be the shadow that devours the gods.

The day Louis discovered his girlfriend's betrayal, he died from a gunshot wound to the head. Fortunately, fate smiled on him and allowed him to be reincarnated in a magical world as the youngest son of an SSS-class family.That same day, he awakened his Class—an event that should have marked the beginning of his rise.Instead, it marked his downfall.[Ding! You have awakened an SSS-Rank Class.][Class: God of Money][Rank: SSS]A god? Yes, that's beautiful. But a god of money? In the eyes of his proud family, that title was a joke—an insult. The weakest, most useless Class imaginable.So, they banished him, stripped him of the family name, and cast him aside without a second thought.But they were unaware of his skill, abilities, and the potential that money could bring.He smiled as he saw himself banished and looked at the system.“If you fire me, it's okay. I'll keep creating missions even if I end up in a garbage dump, and I'll come back for your heads someday.”Two system messages flashed before him.[Your actions generate money, and money makes you stronger.][You have the ability to create missions.]Under the influence of his newly acquired Class, he will delve into all the magical paths this world offers, become embroiled in political intrigue, and conquer kingdoms on his own.“Money? I'm the God. Women?” That's fine—I have plenty.