Beast Taming: I Can Bestow Entries - Chapter 84 Nine Miles Fragrant Osmanthus Cake

Sword God, Ahn Suho.The greatest swordsman player in humanity was, surprisingly enough, a civil servant hunter belonging to the Korean Hunter Association.Suho chose the path of a public servant purely to end the gates.Perhaps that’s why?When one of the disaster-level gates, called the final gate, was attacked,In an ironic turn of events, he was betrayed by his comrades.“You should have joined us from the beginning. Now I know why people say that civil servants are so inflexible.”The reason his comrades betrayed him?Because if the gates were closed, their power would disappear.Is this the end?Just as Suho’s consciousness was fading away,[Rebooting Player Ahn Suho’s system.]The system gave Suho one more chance.A chance to go back to the past and set everything right.

Existence was divided into three realms. The Heavenly Realm. The Earthen Realm. The Infernal Realm. Below them, countless minor realms of all types existed, none able to match the might of any of the Three Fundamental realms. The Celestials led the Heavenly Realm, The Immortals led the Earthen Realm and Demons led the Infernal Realm while the Rulers controlled all the minor realms. Together, they formed The Myriad Unity and allowed peace to reign supreme. The mortals were allowed to cultivate and reach for the Heavens as a balance was installed between the Heaven and Earth, all according to the Heaven’s Will. And yet, among the billions of trillions of living beings within the Myriad Unity, one seemed unsatisfied. “They are lying to us.” This man went against all known truths and contradicted the very gods. “We are in a false world! Mere pawns used to study an outcome!” And so in search of freedom and truth, this man committed the ultimate taboo. He rebelled.

“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.