Maxed Out My Passive Skill Due to My Laziness - Chapter 137 - The Final Defense Line

Master is a sage-like character, but is an out and out veteran rogue inside.

First Senior Brother has the external appearance of an adorable leprechaun, but has an extremely crass and violent personality.

Second Senior Brother seems to be cultured and refined, but it can’t cover up his flirtiness and craftiness.

Third Senior Sister is seductive, enchanting to the extreme, yet is actually a crude tomboy who uses brute force.

Fourth Senior Brother is shockingly handsome to others, but in private, he is a proud, battle-crazy glutton with a poisonous tongue.

The Zhu Zhu who looks very homely and unrefined was forced to live life among this group of beautiful people; it could be said the pressure was huge.

Could it be that the heavens are doing this to project her beautiful heart?!

Fortunately, not only did she have a divine pig for protection, she even knows a supreme skill —— how to disguise as a pig who can devour tigers!

Alyschu Note: The zhu in Zhu Zhu and pig sound the same in Chinese! Same with the title and author!

- Description from Novelupdates

Under the starry sky, all races compete for the front.

The human youth Ye Huan has mutated eyes.

Don’t forget, it’s just basic exercises.

Martial arts, just watch it once.

If you read the exercises once, you are cultivating.

The medicinal pill came out after watching the refining process, and it could be optimized.

Yuanguo, Yuancao, the year has increased at a glance.

Ten thousand clan exercises and secret skills, just looking at them, they become human clan exercises and secret skills.

…

Under the starry sky, Ye Huan convinces all the tribes.

- Description from novelbuddy

There wasn't much to be said about the life of Akhil—at the age of 8, he lost his father at the hands of his most trusted business partner, who was also on his way to becoming the world's richest businessman.This left Akhil with no option but to use that traitor's daughters as a means to kill that man—a rather typical story where the main character takes revenge on his father's killer by making both of killer's daughters yandere.Of course, this wasn't a random fantasy story where he could just reach someone like the world's richest man—sitting at the highest point of the hierarchy—so the most he could do was act as the kind child he once was to those girls and slowly build trust and obsession, which finally bore fruit, and Akhil died.Indeed, how could he even be able to kill a man who possessed that amount of wealth?So, he died in front of both of those women—making sure that they saw him bloodied and dead.....The End.Or at least this was what should have happened.DING![ SUPREME YANDERE SYSTEM —Tada!! ]He opened his eyes inside the body of the Emperor of a ruined kingdom at the edge of the Human Zone—a group of three continents where humans lived while under constant attack from the threat of the 7 Demon Gods—and found himself in a sick body.A kingdom that was nearly collapsing due to corruption, the presence of holy light bearers—Heroes and Heroines—and a world filled with artifacts and fragments scattered around the bloodline—he who needed to lift the whole kingdom up again, hold the reign of a broken kingdom, and move forward.Now born as King Lysanderic Aleria Vandreat, he has only the support of his Supreme Yandere System.Oh, he awakened it too, but when did he?Read the Story...[: The main character is cruel, and there will be darkness in his actions, so enjoy the light in the first ten chapters (those are before he was reborn) and smile as you see the comedy and slight introductions to the characters. ][ Suggestion: If you don't like to know about Main character background, then skip starting 10 chapters. (Yes, the previous chapters are a prologue (not boring ones as they are important for understanding the main character and his future artifacts. Ahem.) ]

“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.