Love You Till the End - Chapter 5: So what if you distance yourself? Bite me if you can!

In the winter of Taikang Year 3, a girl pays a visit to her future in-laws, the Ning Family of Beiliu, Yangcheng.

After her engagement was denied, the girl decided to hang herself in front of the Ning Family to show them her sincerity.

When the girl who had died opened her eyes once more, many people’s fates were changed forever.

- Description from Novelupdates

# GAMEALTERNATEWORLD # RELAXING # PRIEST

In that year, the entire world mutated. The game descended into reality while demonic catastrophes rampaged.

For the sake of survival, everyone had to pick up a job class and level up their skills frantically. They worked hard to be more powerful.

Lin Ye acquired the special talent of Reversing.

He could reverse and strengthen any effect that was targeted at the host. For instance, he could turn damage into healing and buffing into debuffing.

As such, he changed his job class and became a priest.

He challenged an opponent, “Come at me! Attack me with any of your forbidden curses or divine techniques. I will admit defeat even if I lose a bit of blood.”

He then said, “So, your attack has no effect on me? It’s my turn to attack now. Healing Spell!”

[Notification: you attacked your opponent with a healing spell and caused 100 million points of critical damage. The other party has been afflicted with the negative status effects of anti-treatment, poison, burn, silence and fatigue.]

Lin Ye’s opponent was befuddled.

“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.