I Became a Murderer in the Academy. - Chapter 128

[Thriller + Reasoning + System]

Strange recovery, strange rules and strange stories invaded all over the world.

As the chosen one, Zhou Bai entered the ghost talk game on behalf of the Great Xia Kingdom. The first ghost story is about a family of four.

[You live with your wife and parents. But remember, there are only three people in your family. ]

[You can trust your wife, unless she takes off the red hairpin.]

[You and your wife have never had a baby, so if you hear a baby crying in the middle of the night, don’t worry about it.]

[Remember, you cannot have sex with your wife.]

- Description from novelbuddy

“Now that I’m back, I won’t allow my loved ones to die again!”

The Shadow Labyrinth – the most catastrophic existence humanity has faced in history.

Desir Arman is one of the six remaining survivors of mankind.

The six attempted to clear the final level of the labyrinth but ultimately failed, and the world came to an end.

However – when Desir thought he would meet his demise, what is revealed before him is the world… thirteen years ago?!

Desir is returned to the past, back to the time when he enrolled at the nation’s finest magic academy – Havrion. He is reunited with his precious friends, and is prepared to change the past to save the world and his loved ones…!

Three years remaining before the emergence of the Shadow World!

Change the past and gather powerful comrades to save mankind!

“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.

There were women approaching me, who had decided to die.