Biocores: The Legendary Weapon Designer - Chapter 39: The conclusion.

[WSA 2025 ENTRY]“Seriously? Of all the people I could’ve become, I get stuck as him?”Damien, a shut-in who spends his days cursing his favourite authors for every plot twist he didn’t like, meets his end at the hands of a mysterious woman.Just when he thinks his life is over, Damien wakes up as Alden Draven, an extra character inside his favourite novel.You know, the kind of character who shows up for one chapter, says nothing important, and dies tragically in the background to move the plot forward. Yeah, 'that' guy.And guess what? His death is scheduled to happen in the first few chapters.But just as he resolves to not die and change his fate, he notices something’s off. The plot is... wrong. The characters aren't acting as they were meant to be, and the plot is all messed up.“This wasn’t supposed to happen; the stupid hero was supposed to fail miserably right about now! Is it just me, or did the entire plot get hijacked?” He muttered as it hits him....“F*ck! ”Is there another transmigrator?”And if that wasn’t enough, there's a yandere girl, one of the characters he's meant to interact with, who’s developed an unnatural obsession with him.

I've transmigrated to the Honkai World and became the future Herrscher of Ice, Kiana's cousin, Durandal's cousin, Ana Schariac.Hmph, I must become a Valkyrie aboard the Hyperion at all costs to survive!Come join the Ana fan club!Wait! I'm just a fictional character, not your wife!Players, you guys are so peculiar!Ah well, let's embrace the chaos!*****

Gu Zuo: Are you sick?

Gongyi Tianheng: You have medicine?

Gu Zuo: You’re sick!

Gongyi Tianheng: If I say I’m sick, can you cure me?

Gu Zuo: If I say I have medicine, would you want it?

Gongyi Tianheng: However much you have is how much I want.

Gu Zuo: However much you want is how much I have.

Gongyi Tianheng: Then bring it all out.

Gu Zuo: …

Simply speaking, a scaredy-cat shou transmigrated and had to think of a way to survive. He had a golden finger called Medicine Refining System, but unfortunately, he didn’t have the ingredients needed to refine medicine and level up.

A great young master to an empire’s preeminent clan had a super high IQ, but his potential for cultivation was low. Unfortunately, pill refiners were too hard to develop, and weren’t restricted to his personal service. But he could acquire plenty of ingredients.

Two people, one was sick and one had medicine. Therefore, the one who was sick kept the one who had medicine, and everyone was happy.

“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.