The King of the Battlefield - Chapter 30 — Free—for—all (2)

The next day.“I’ve stressed this time and again—I’m responsible for making the ethos of the cultivation world off-kilter! History is written by the victors, and I’ve triumphed!” Sword Immortal Lu Yang expressed his ire during a press interview.—Brought to you by The Cultivation Times.(Translated by Rakumon)It is the first day of the twelfth month of the year—a suitable day for the launch of this novel (I hope… :3) I am Rakumon, the translator of Who Let Him Cultivate?! This novel is known for its refreshing humor and imaginative ideas in the Chinese community. If you like a witty protagonist, interesting side characters, a mystery plot in the background, and plenty of comedy, do read on and be a part of Lu Yang’s journey! I have previously worked on Consort of a Thousand Faces and Transmigration: Of Mysteries And Songs on Volare. It will be my first time translating a novel from this genre, and it definitely doesn’t help that this novel is heavy with jokes, puns, wordplay, memes, poems, cultural references—you name it. Nonetheless, I will try my best to bring them across to all of you, and please also feel free to share your comments!

Nine disasters are coming, demons are rampant, and human beings are in danger.

Suddenly a new app called “Mini-Games” was added to Lu Fan’s phone.

Every time he passes the game, he gains a new ability.

In a world where disasters become everyday, he decided not to go out with a top suit.

- Description from Qidian

Dao Fa leads to spirits, and medical therapy leads to ghosts.

A third-rate university graduate who was supposed to run around in a mess for his livelihood, but because of an inadvertent shot to save people, whether it is extremely peaceful and rewarding for his good people, he has obtained the legendary inheritance of the mysterious arts and medical methods of the experts in the realm of self-cultivation. Another brand new and weird new world!

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.