Sacred Souls: Genesis - Chapter 40 - : Things the Savior (Player) Can Do

The Third Dimension is collapsing. The Fourth Dimension is descending.

First it seemed that only technology would evolve, but who knew the world itself could too? It wasn’t as simple as climate change or tectonic movement. No, the fundamental laws of physics that governed everything were changing.

Leonel was fairly lucky. His family was decently well off, his father loved him enough to brew vomit inducing nutrient rich smoothies every morning, and this was both the day of the National Championship and his 521st confession to his dream girl, Aina. As his father always said, nothing was more important than respect and persistence.

Unfortunately, everything changed that night. At the after party of ages, the world reached a saturation point and an apocalypse descended.

Abilities awakened. Sub-Dimensional Zones opened. Invalids rampaged through the Earth like a virus…

Those who could evolve would have a slim chance for survival. Those who couldn’t would die.

This novel will be a unique spin on the dungeon/system genre. Dungeons won’t be dungeons and the system won’t be a system… Take a look to find out what I maen :)

“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.

A kind girl falls in love with a vicious killer. Unhinged Yuri story set in Seoul.------“Like a prey waiting with a trap, I missed my predator.I missed her touch in the places I’ve never been touched.I wanted to hear her sing the songs that I’ve never heard.”------As the blood dripped off the knife she held firmly in her pale hand, I saw my reflection in the cold blade that had just taken the life of a man.I dreamed of magical moments like this every day.Something - someone to come and free me from the suffocating monotony of normalcy.She stormed into my life brandishing death, and in the moment of madness, my heart fluttered.Then she came to my place, uninvited. I treated her wounds and fed her. She slept on my couch like a cat. We started our lives together. Death bound us like the knot of tie I fixed for her as she left for work - to kill, kill, and to kill again.I spent countless nights sitting in darkness, on my couch hugging my knees, gripped with worry and excitement. I prayed for her safe return home, but I did not pray for the souls she’d be sending to hell.But she always returned, like a stray cat coming for food in the back alley behind a restaurant. I was the cook who put out the food for her, stroked her, and gave her shelter.A stray cat. A great feline predator. She was mine and mine alone.Together we laughed, alone I cried.Together we laughed, alone I cried.But I think we also loved.I think.------This is a dark and twisted psychological slice-of-life romantic comedy with a sprinkle of inspiration from the noir genre. If that doesn’t make sense, it’s because it doesn’t.

An ordinary office worker, bound by routine and indifferent to fantasy, finds an unexpected spark in his vibrant senior colleague. Their quiet connection grows through late-night conversations and shared meals—until a sudden accident turns a mundane life into something else entirely. In the stillness that follows, a new story begins.---Disclaimer:English is not my first language, so please forgive any grammatical or spelling mistakes.