Naruto: I Can Take People Through the Ninja World in the Future - Chapter 486: Report, There’s Cheating!

Yeho is a distant relative to a king in a small kingdom. Even though he is a distant relative, his house was very poor, and his mother was addicted to gambling. One day North Empire asked for Princess Sooyoung to be a concubine of an old Emperor because she was known for her beauty. But the king really loved his daughter so instead he ordered Yeho’s older sister to disguise as Princess Sooyoung and marry the old Emperor.

Yeho told his sister to run away with her lover, and his sister had to leave her younger brother alone with his mother. After she ran away, Yeho asked his mother to give the things back to the king that she got for trying to sell her daughter, but his mother already used the gifts to pay off her gambling debt. He was trying to give the gifts back to the king to take away his order, but now he can’t do that anymore. He tells his mother to run away, and he disguises as his sister to go to North Empire.

After he got there, he was trying to tell the Emperor the truth and take away his life, but the Emperor went out for few days to look around his empire. When the emperor came back, he wasn’t as old as he thought.

[The Absolute Dweller]

Absolute Dweller’s Declaration (Passive) Level 1

No one can invade the dwelling space without the Absolute Dweller’s permission.

Surviving thanks to awakened skills, there was, however, one problem: “Ah, damn.”

[The Absolute Dweller cannot leave the dwelling space.]

That’s right, the inability to step outside the home.

Finding an ancient treasure was not as fortunate as one might expect. As soon as Bai Rouyun had left the grave, countless sects and hidden families set out to kill her for the sake of obtaining her treasure for themselves.

“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.