MTL - Spellcasting is a Permanent Addition and My Skills Are All Forbidden Spells - Chapter 5 Bronze level! Deadly spellcaster! No. 1024!

Chu Huai was parasitized by a ghost, he became weak and frail, soon afterward he died.

After entering the horror world, Chu Huai was harmoniously transformed into a man in women’s clothes.

On the first day of the instance. Everyone stares blankly at Young Lady Huai, who was holding the quilt calmly climbed onto the man’s bed: “I’m a little afraid of the dark and ghosts, can I sleep with you?”

Jin Tianyi: “…” I’ll pretend not to know that you are a man.

- Description from Novelupdates

What comes to your mind when you hear the word 'Villain'? Evil, cruel, cunning? So true.

But what if the main character in this novel is reincarnated as a villain? Can he kill the protagonist who has endless plot armor?

Zhou Yuan had to accept the fact that he had reincarnated into the world of the cultivation novels he had read in his previous life.

He realized that his identity was extraordinary.

Father is a CEO and Mayor, Mother is the Chairman of a famous company, and Grandfather is a national hero.

Zhou Yuan was excited, but that all changed when he realized that his role was that of the villain.

“Shit, am I going to die? No, then I will become the villain who rules the world!”

Not being reckless, Zhou Yuan got help from the system.

[Ding, you got a starter gift pack]

[Congratulations, you got a high-level cultivation talent]

[Congratulations, your luck increased +20]

[Congratulations, you got a high-level medical technique]

After you’re awake but find yourself looking like a character in a game and came to a strange place, is this a different world or a game? Is it a rebirth or a cross over to another world? Everything needs to be explored by yourself!

- 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.