Saving the overbearing CEO - Chapter 11: First World: Overqualified Lunch Lady

Japan – National News BroadcastThe polished news anchor sat upright, her gaze sharp as she adjusted the stack of papers before her. The newsroom behind her hummed with quiet urgency, the weight of the moment settling over the broadcast.“Authorities are baffled by a sudden and unexplained surge in sleep-related deaths across Japan,” she began, her voice steady yet tense. “More and more citizens are passing away in their sleep without any prior health concerns. Experts are working tirelessly to determine the cause, but no clear explanation has emerged. Authorities urge the public to remain vigilant and report any unusual symptoms before bedtime.”A graphic appeared, displaying the spike in fatalities over the past month. Behind her, unsettling photographs flickered across the screen—blurred images of individuals found in their beds, their faces frozen in expressions of terror.The anchor’s tone shifted. “Health officials recommend citizens avoid excessive fatigue and maintain healthy sleep habits. More updates will follow as investigations continue.”---United States – Paranormal PodcastIn a dimly lit podcast studio, the host leaned forward, his eyes wide with curiosity. Across from him, a rugged man in a worn flannel shirt, gripping a faded photograph in one hand and a beer can in the other, leaned back in his chair.“So, you're telling me you saw this creature firsthand?” the host asked, clearly intrigued.The man scoffed, shaking his head. “Damn right, I did. Ugly thing had wings bigger than my body—slow but sneaky. Thought it could steal my pigs again, but I was ready this time—camera in one hand, shotgun in the other.”He slammed the table for emphasis, then shoved the blurry image toward the host. The photograph depicted a small, red-skinned humanoid figure with large, bat-like wings, its eyes glowing faintly in the darkness.“Spit, the thing didn’t know what hit it when I fired!” the man chuckled, his voice full of excitement.The host held up the picture to the live chat. “Alright, what do you think? Mothman? Demon? Or is our friend here just seeing things?”The chat exploded with theories—some skeptical, others eager for the investigation to continue.---China – Liangyuan Street MarketSurveillance footage from a bustling night market in China captured a chilling scene. A woman in a red qipao walked gracefully through the crowd, her figure striking in the soft glow of lanterns.Suddenly, she paused. Her body flickered—like a glitch in a video—before vanishing completely, as though she had never existed.The footage zoomed in, replaying in slow motion. In the final frame before she disappeared, her face distorted unnaturally, her eyes hollow and empty.The screen cut abruptly to black.

The top-tier professional player Lis woke up to find himself having crossed into the “Divine Revelation” game, becoming a Viscount enamored with magic. Knowing that he would soon face a continent engulfed in war smoke, grand otherworld expeditions, the mysterious decay of the World Tree, and the constant threat of Abyss Demon invasions... Lis admitted he was a bit panicked. ...... Fortunately, the game system was still in place, and he still possessed the “All-Purpose” Talent. With the memories of his past life, he switched his class to Arcanist, analyzed the Element Model, reshaped the world’s rules, and step by step ascended to that supreme throne. ...... Players complained about him, “This boss is too perverted, he can even grow stronger, we protest!” Elves worshiped him, “Lord Lis is the strongest Divine Favored, he has brought peace to the world.” Mages praised him, “He is the pioneer of magic, as well as the Guardian. His revered name is Lis Kane, He is the god of the arcane.”

In her previous life, Su Jin was conspired by her family. Her baby was born through Caesarean birth, she had her eyes gouged out, and died tragically. When she was reborn, she suppressed the invincible Master Xiao. Her red lips lifted slightly as she said, "Handsome man, I see your yin tang has turned black. There will be a disaster in three days. If you want to resolve this calamity, marry me. I guarantee you will have safety, security, many children, and many blessings for the rest of your life.” Xi Chenxiao replied, “Get lost.” Three days later, he was rushed to the hospital. Su Jin said, “Handsome man, I reckon your heart may soon get pierced by an arrow.” Xi Chenxiao answered, “Get away from me!” Two days later, Xi Chenxiao was once again rushed to the hospital. Su Jin started, “Handsome man, I…” Xi Chenxiao interrupted her, “Stop! Let’s get married right now!” News of the overwhelmingly wealthy and powerful Xiaoye marrying the Su Family’s older daughter, a nobody, spread like wildfire. His brothers were puzzled but Master Xiao explained, “A wife to bless us with safety.” However, later… A fan asked, “Master Xiao, I heard that your wife is the world-famous voice actor.” Xi Chenxiao was confused. A reader asked, “Master Xiao, I heard that your wife is a greater writer.” Xi Chenxiao was confused. A little boy asked, “Master Xiao, I heard that your wife is a top hacker.” Xi Chenxiao was confused. “What are you guys talking about? My wife is a fortune teller!” [A little theatre] One day in a small, black house. Xi Chenxiao sat on a chair, his face a look of solemnity. “Tell me, then. How many more things are you hiding from me?” Su Jin shook her fingers and answered, “There aren’t many left, only that I’m a Qiuming Mountain racer, a certain boss in gaming, a certain talented right, and a special researcher of the International Research institute…” Xi Chenxiao was speechless. His wife was the real deal!

“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.