Level Up in Martial World - Chapter 333 Flying swords! Mental Power Martial Artist!

[The false necromancer has insufficient soldiers and is being ostracized and hunted. ]

[The real necromancer, countless skeletons, become the overlord of one party. ]

After Wu Heng obtained the double portal, he discovered that the original world was full of zombies.

When a gangster’s plan fails, another plan to survive begins.

Wu Heng chose to become a ‘Necromancer’.

Is it not allowed to summon the undead from another world? In the last days, the entire planet is a source of soldiers.

Can’t survive in the zombie world? Then I will live in another world and learn skills.

From then on, an undead army equipped with modern weapons appeared in the world.

Natural disaster strikes, millions of skeletons.

Immortal Bone Dragon, King of the Undead.

(Double portal + necromancer + magic + fantasy world + undead natural disaster.)

- Description from novelbuddy

I transmigrated into a novel that I was reading.“But of all people, why did it have to be Kamon Vade?!”The problem here is this: the character I transmigrated as was a third-rate villain who appeared at the beginning of the original story, but after he had been accused of attacking the imperial princess, he disappeared and left the stage.“Haah, fine. The novel never said that I died anyway. So, I just need to somehow hold out and endure in the academy, right?”But…Maybe because I refused to exit the novel, ‘death’ keeps following me around.‘Motherfxxxer, this is like the fantasy novel version of Final Destination!’Damn it, I have to survive somehow.And I will! No matter what!

This novel is a blend of the anime Oregairu, focusing on Hachiman Hikigaya as our main character, and Classroom of the Elite, intertwined with a sweet romance. Give it a read and decide whether to continue based on your experience!

“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.