The Demon King Always Thinks I’m Secretly In Love With Him - Chapter 88

For as long as he could remember, life had always been cruel.A young man in his early twenties—his name now lost to the past—was dealt a life filled with misfortunes.A cold, empty apartment, a soul-crushing job, and, finally, a terminal diagnosis.With nothing left to live for, his only comfort had been escaping into the fictional world of Path of the Elemental Sage, a story of heroes, magic, and survival.But fate had other plans.When death finally came for him, he didn’t fade into nothingness.Instead, he awoke in the world he had only read about—a world of chaos and danger where death lurked around every corner.The air smelled of magic, the sky was filled with possibilities.{«[Status Window]»}[Name: Lyrium Blackwood][Age: 16][Rank: D-][Skills: None][Elements: None}At first, confusion filled his mind.Who was Lyrium Blackwood?Why was he here?And why did this body feel so different?But as his memories returned, so did the realization: this wasn’t some blessing or second chance.He wasn’t reincarnated as the protagonist.No destined savior.No cheat abilities.No grand fate.He was just another mob, a face in the crowd meant to exist and die without leaving a mark.But this young man—the one who had left his old name and life behind—wasn’t the kind of person to roll over and accept his fate.“This world is dangerous. The protagonist isn’t the only one fighting for survival here,”he muttered, his red eyes deep and sharp.Unlike the naïve characters in the story, he knew the stakes.He’d read the web novel.He’d seen the carnage, the betrayals, the disasters that wiped out entire cities.And if there was one thing he refused to be, it was a pawn in someone else’s game.“I don’t care about glory. I don’t care about saving the world. All I care about is surviving—no matter what it takes.”Lyrium Blackwood wasn’t planning to live quietly or avoid danger.The only way to survive in this brutal world was to rise to the top.To be strong enough to stand above both heroes and villains.Using his knowledge of the story’s events and his iron will, Lyrium sets out on a relentless path to surpass the protagonist.Whether through clever manipulation, brutal training, or sheer desperation, he’ll climb higher and higher, leaving nothing to chance.But the deeper he gets, the more he realizes that this isn’t just the story he once read.As fate pushes him closer to the heart of the narrative, Lyrium begins to suspect that his reincarnation wasn’t an accident—and the world itself might be watching him.“I don’t care who or what stands in my way. If the story wants to kill me, I’ll rewrite the ending myself.”----------------------------------I apologize for any mistakes in this story, as it’s my first attempt at writing a novel.

Caelen died doing what he loved most: playing survival games non-stop like a sleep-deprived goblin. Unfortunately, dying in your chair from gaming overload isn’t exactly what you’d call a dignified exit. Even God laughed at him.But lucky for Caelen, or maybe unlucky, he gets a second chance in the world of his favorite survival game. It’s a brutal fantasy realm full of monsters, magic, swords… and absolutely zero indoor plumbing.Armed with only a stone pickaxe, a limited-use “Google Brain” search skill, and the stubbornness of a man who once built a Minecraft mansion out of dirt, Caelen sets out to survive. But surviving isn’t enough he wants to upgrade the world. Electricity? Toilets? Toasted bread? Why not all three?As he fends off nighttime horrors, awkwardly crafts furniture, and tries to avoid becoming monster chow, Caelen has one mission: bring modern convenience to a medieval world, one ridiculous invention at a time.And maybe, just maybe… not die again in a chair.[System Notes:No Ntr, No Yuri(gl), No Yaoi(bl)]

Shadow was an assassin with no family, no friends, and no purpose beyond the missions assigned to him. Kidnapped at the age of five and forced to serve a ruthless assassin organization for fifty long years, his life was a series of shadows and bloodshed. On the eve of his fifty-fifth birthday, he completed his final mission with hope in his heart. A hope that freedom and a better life were finally within reach.But that hope was shattered. Betrayed by the very organization he had devoted his life to, Shadow was ruthlessly killed, his decades of loyalty repaid with treachery. As his life slipped away, he swore one thing.“If he had a second chance, he would live life on his terms, unshackled and free”.In the void between life and death, Shadow's soul was met by “Syl”. The enigmatic Shadow Monarch's System. Syl offered him what he craved most. Another chance at life, but in a world far different from his own. Without hesitation, Shadow accepted, eager to grasp the life he was denied.Reborn into a realm of gods, magic, and chaos, Shadow soon learns the truth.He is a Wild Card, a pawn in the gods’ celestial game. Amere source of entertainment for their whims. But Shadow is no ordinary human. With the sarcastic and unpredictable Syl by his side, a glitching system that grants him powers beyond imagination, he embarks on a journey to defy the gods and forge his destiny.

“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.