I Raised the Demon Queen (Now She Won't Leave Me Alone) - Chapter 38 : She Dances

Vegeta travels to the Marvel Universe.

For more than ten years, Vegett has grown from a young man who first came to the universe to survive among the major forces to become the only god among the six gods in the universe who is not the innate god – the God of Destruction.

Along with eternity, swallowing stars, death, infinity, and annihilation, they are called the six true gods of the universe. Title – Destruction.

The universe is far more complex than imagined. Not only the local gods of Marvel, the god group, the eternal titans. There is even an angel civilization, a demon civilization, and even Karl, the god of death in the Styx galaxy. The sun god of the heavenly civilization.

Devil Death, but his subordinate gods, Keisha, Thanos, you need to be respectful when you see him.

- Description from novelbuddy

“Mr. Chen, your order of one hundred buckets of fried chicken has arrived.”

“Mr. Chen, your order of one hundred roast ducks has arrived.”

“Mr. Chen, your order of ten thousand tons of pork has arrived.”

Known as the King of the Void, Chen Luo, relied on his unparalleled survival abilities to outlast all survivors, leaving no human left in the world except monsters.

Chen Luo, who found no meaning in living, buried himself in a pit. It wasn’t that he couldn’t survive, but that he didn’t want to.

After waking up, Chen Luo was surprised to find himself reborn one month before the apocalypse, with his unique space ability from his past life following him.

It goes without saying, he decided to stockpile ten billion supplies first. Why stockpile so much? Chen Luo said he wanted to try something different in this lifetime.

In a normal and average modern world where a prestigious academy nurtures elites in a certain field who are known as ”Supreme“ such as [Supreme Inventor], Allen Walker suffers from being called 'average'. Allen Walker can't accept why he has to be average when a few are fortunate to be born as either a genius or prodigy. After a week of self-loathing, when all of his hope was lost, a sound snap him back to reality, or is it insanity?

Ding!

[A suitable host has been found! Prodigy System at your service!]

Ding!

[Hello darling! Chuu~ Harem Protagonist System at your service! Or do you want my service in bed instead?]

Ding!

[A wild Anti-loner System has appeared!]

Ding!

[Fiction fanatic, praise thee and thou shalt be graced with the Multiverse Traveler System!]

Ding!

...

Before Allen can even choose a system, another too familiar sound harassed his ears.

Ding!

[For achieving a thousand system requests which are a one in a decillion chance to occur, a Supreme Being was forced to use Divine Intervention.]

[Merging all of the thousand systems to create the most versatile and advanced system... Merging complete! Alternate Multiverse Chat Group System has been obtained!]

After accepting the Alternate Multiverse Chat Group System, Allen becomes a prodigy and the Chat Group's Admin and has no choice but to chat with beings from other universes.

Beings with suspicious, delusional, and eccentric names such as [I Love Mathematics], [Lolicon Shota Cultivator With Soul Fetish], [Sword Forge From Chaos], [Self-Proclaimed Genius Goblin Hero], [Reality's Bitch], [Time Manipulator Of The Apocalypse], and [Delusional Modern World Chuunibyou]

The chat group introduces Allen as [Supreme Order] as he chats with the otherworldly beings to find out the secret behind the Alternate Multiverse Chat Group.

“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.