Rise Of The Infinite Sovereign - Chapter 33 The Carrot

Chu Li was a particle physicist until a freak accident took his life and transmigrated him to a parallel universe – one where he wakes up with inexplicable abilities and finds himself in the running for a job in the imperial palace.

※ This book contains coercive relationships and violent scenes. Please be aware before proceeding.※ The names, locations, and characters mentioned in this book are entirely fictional.The calculation method of gamblers is truly peculiar.They lend money at exorbitant interest rates to those who haven’t even spent any money as collateral.For 15 years, Hongju has been collecting debts from housemates while being tied to collateral.One day, a man appears, claiming he will invest in the house.A rich fool, a money tree.The housemates called him Mookyung.“As long as you do as I say, I’ll help you.”Mookyung makes a suspicious proposal, offering to repay the debts in exchange for house information.Why would he make such a proposal to a debtor who is already struggling?Still, there is suspicion about him…“Do you think I’m a swindler right now?”“No.”“You shouldn’t. It’s all too obvious. Swindlers can tell just by looking.”Hongju has no choice but to accept that proposal.Growing up on scraps, he knows exactly where to stretch his legs.

A young girl, who was neglected by her family, accidentally died while protecting a [Child of God] who would save the world. She was offered to be reincarnated into a world identical to the VRMMORPG that she was familiar with by a mysterious entity. That mysterious entity used its power to empower her soul by transforming her previous effort and passion spent in developing and leveling up her game characters into her own powers instead.

However, when she turned three years old, she discovered that the world she was reincarnated into was not the least bit similar to the VRMMORPG world. Furthermore, she was compounded by the revelation that she had become a ‘villainess’ who had raised plenty of death flags.

“God, this is not the world you promised me!?”

A flurry of death flags looms over her from an early age. She is now pitted against a powerful heroine, one endowed with beauty, and blessed with mysterious powers. With the help of her wits and bravery – or rather with the power of her VRMMO character – the girl was able to fend off pe*verted assailants, weather unknown dangers and defy the tragic fate of the game’s Villainess.

Why did that entity reincarnate her into that body? Why did she have to face the trials that the villainess would have to go through? With more questions than answers, what will happen to our said reincarnated VRMMO player?

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“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.