Banging the Hot MILFs of Tokyo - Chapter 6

Author, God or Plaything?Zar had just finished writing the prologue of his magnum opus—The Nexus Verse—a boundless verse of multiverses, godlike beings, and an elite academy meant to shape the strongest entities in existence. Years of meticulous world-building, complex power systems, and lore so deep it could drown a god… and yet, it was all just fiction.Until it wasn’t.On the night of his 22nd birthday, reality itself fractured. In an instant, he was torn from his world—only to awaken within the Nexus Verse as one of its rulers.There was just one problem.He had only written the prologue.Everything beyond that? Scattered notes. Unfinished ideas. Incomplete power systems. The vast, living, breathing multiverse around him was full of gaps he never filled. The beings he once considered mere characters now had wills of their own, and some of them were already far beyond his control.To make matters worse, the Nexus Academy—his ultimate creation, the battleground where gods and devils alike trained to surpass reality—had just started its entrance exam. And somehow, he was now part of it.Armed with only a mysterious system, fragmented knowledge of his own lore, and the terrifying realization that he may have made this world far too overpowered, Zar has only one goal:Survive.Because in a world where destroying a multiverse is just a Tuesday challenge, where ancient beings lurk in the void waiting for a single mistake, and where the strongest warriors wield power beyond his comprehension...Being the author doesn’t mean he’s the one in control.After all, if this verse was created… what destroyed the others?*****For fans of: Overpowered protagonists, cosmic-level world-building, reality-defying battles, eldritch horrors, and gods who fear greater forces.Additional tags#Gods #Devil #Ancient beings #Creators #Monarchs #OverpoweredBeings

Attribute Classification: Overhead/Western Magic/Strong Attack/Sweet

- Description from novelbuddy

Noah Brown had a gift for fighting. Unfortunately punching things didn't pay the bills, at least until he died and an Eldritch god found his soul. The encounter led him to a new world, summoned by bloody cultists, with nothing but the shirt on his back, and a strange item in his system menu.

[???] : A source of infinite potential.

Perhaps he'd finally get to put his gifts to good use.

“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.