Super Gene Ⅱ: Evolution - Chapter 1088 - : Yin Yang Realm Stele

Within the popular VRMMORPG «New Genesis», there was a ranker by the name of Arthur Holmes, commonly known by his in-game alias «Merlin».

Yang Ji transmigrated to a world of immortals, where he could see various information displays invisible to others.He looked at a chunk of ore, “Mystic Iron Ore”.He looked at a dead frog, “Died of Gu Insect, dead for fifty breaths”.He looked at the sky, “The sky is overcast, and a heavy rain will pour down in an hour”.He looked at humans, “Thinking”, “I want to seize your body”, “Angry”, “Sneaky”.When he looked at himself, a proficiency panel appeared.With the attributes he could see, Yang Ji sought good fortune and avoided disaster. Step by step, he walked the path to the supreme immortal way.

In a world of magic and monsters, I carved out my own empire. Hellfire Studios - my brainchild, my legacy.It all started with “The Demonfather” - a blatant copy from my past life, sure, but this world had never seen anything like it. Humans, elves, dwarves - they all fell in love with it. Critics raved, audiences cheered, and suddenly, I was on top.But the world thought I was a one-hit wonder. They had no idea what was coming.I unleashed “The Lord of the Rings” upon them. The result? Critics were left speechless, fumbling for words to describe what they'd witnessedBut why stop at movies? This world was stuck in the past, so I dragged it into the future. I created computers, birthed video games, and watched as everyone from imps to elf elders became addicted to pixels and polygons.Still not satisfied, I turned to music. I crafted stars, produced hits, and soon had the entire realm dancing to my tunes.But even that wasn't enough. Comics, manga, cartoons, anime, novels - I introduced them all. I flooded this world with stories and art forms they'd never dreamed of.Before long, people weren't just consuming my creations - they begun worshipping me. They started calling me “The Lord of Entertainment.”

“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.