The Elite Assassin Becomes a Flat and Ugly Nerd! - Chapter 42 - Contacting Ye Ying

Ethan Cross was a politician serving as the Secretary of the Department of Energy in the United States of America. He was also an engineer and a scientist prior to his position, to which he was hailed as a “King of Technology” as he was able to invent revolutionary technologies one after the other.But his life was cut short when the vehicle he was in was rammed by a truck from the side, and immediately after, he awakened in the body of a royal prince, Bruno de Elysea, who was a complete opposite of Ethan in terms of knowledge and capability.One thing he noticed is that in this new world, everything was so backward. Technology and politics. He desired to change them but by doing so, caught the eyes of those who opposed it.

Night City, it’s a place of endless wonders and horrors. Opportunities and dangers, but before Motoko Kusanagi can access any of them. She first has to build up enough strength to walk again. Learn the basics of living in a world that was just a game to her before. Good thing she found a Shard hidden in her stuff that opens the door of opportunity. But like all opportunities in Night City, it usually ends up in a gunfight. Self-Insert with a modified Cyberpunk 2077 Gamer System. Not a direct Ghost in the Shell Crossover. MC just happens to share the name.

Lucan Ironfist came from a noble family, but he wasn't the eldest son. When his brother became the head of the family and he turned 18, Lucan would become a commoner. A strange rule, but that's how it was. So Lucan began to think of a way to live a peaceful life.As he was considering this, his mother arranged for him to become a priest in another city. A priest didn't have to worry about food or housing, and all he had to do was watch over the temple and the statue.It was easy work, so he agreed and arrived at the city. One day, as he was watching over the temple and the statue, a poor-looking girl came to pray. When she prayed to God, light gathered around her body.Lucan was surprised and suddenly remembered the plot of a certain game. Originally, Lucan was from Earth and had traveled to this fantasy world. When he was on Earth, he played a game with a plot where a merchant family's illegitimate daughter, bullied by her family, awakened the power of a saint.Lucan decided to keep this secret and train the saint so that in the future, he could have an easy life and save himself from any crises.

“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.