Villain System: Stealing the Protagonist's Harem and Luck

Chapter 142: Since Ancient Times, Trash Produces Miracles; Is There a Need to Care?

Gu Changge maintained high expectations for Hei Ming. Since ancient times, the “trash” archetype was prone to producing miracles. If Hei Ming could truly ignite this fire, it would be a stroke of genius. Of course, the prerequisite was that the boy didn’t cross a true Villain like himself. Then again, even if Hei Ming failed, it would have zero impact on Changge’s broader designs.

Buzz!

Changge pointed a finger at the prostrate youth. Instantly, a ripple of spatial distortion expanded before Hei Ming’s eyes. Caught in a whirlwind of religious fervor and excitement, the boy felt the world go black as a titanic, world-crushing force ejected him from the space.

In the next heartbeat, he was back in the familiar luxury of the private room. He looked at his trembling hands, the scent of the Drunken Immortal Pavilion’s wine still hanging in the air.

It felt as though he had lived a thousand years in the span of a breath.

The black wings on Hei Ming’s back flapped spasmodically. He was nearly vibrating with suppressed adrenaline. “That… that was the power of a god. What level of existence is the Supreme Being? He must surely surpass the Immortals…”

Hei Ming’s voice shook as he fought to reclaim his composure. He didn’t notice a tiny, silver thread of runic light—a microscopic sigil—slowly sinking into his pupils and vanishing.

“The Bridal Gown Immortal Art… a gift from the Supreme Being tailored just for me. He saw my mediocrity and gave me a way out.”

He scrutinized the details of the art burned into his memory, and his soul shivered with a mix of dread and awe. “A technique that ignores innate talent? If I let others learn the ‘Bridal Gown’ portion, I can siphon a fraction of their talent and share in their cultivation fruits? This… this is a direct challenge to the laws of heaven!”

He realized the danger instantly. If this ever got out, the entire continent—perhaps the entire Upper Realm—would hunt him to the ends of the earth. It was a power that subverted the very foundations of cultivation.

If I’d had this years ago, he thought, his back slick with cold sweat, I wouldn’t be stuck at the Transcendent Realm today.

Hei Ming took several deep breaths, vowing to keep this secret until the day he died. Fortunately, the “receiver” part of the technique looked like a standard, albeit high-level, cultivation method. To the untrained eye, there was no risk of exposure.

“I need to test it. My ‘loyal’ followers will make excellent subjects. The technique is profound, obscure… it will look like I’m rewarding them.”

As he paced the room, plotting his rise, he remained blissfully unaware of the mocking, invisible gaze watching him from the void. After a moment, the spatial ripple vanished.

Gu Changge was gone.

He had tampered with the light cluster bestowed upon Hei Ming. Whenever he wished, he could look through the boy’s eyes and hear his every thought. Changge was a man who believed in having three hands on the board for every one his opponent saw.

Hei Ming stormed out of the room, his ambition burning like a sun. He called his guards, ready to return to the Black Sky Eagle Clan. His primary target was already set: his sister, Hei Yanyu.

In the past, he had resented her brilliance. Her bloodline was a perfect reversion to their ancestors, lacking any of the avian features of their clan and marking her as a top-tier genius of the Immortal Ancient Continent. At the mid-stage of the Void God Realm, she was a mountain he could never hope to climb.

“If the art is as heaven-defying as promised, I’ll let her ‘learn’ it as well. It won’t hurt her, after all…”

Hei Ming’s resentment had morphed into a predatory sense of belonging. He was no longer a waste. He was a chosen servant of the Great Freedom Supreme Creation Heavenly Emperor.

“Chant His true name, and find eternal life…”

Gu Changge put the Black Sky Eagle Clan on the back burner for the moment. The chess pieces were set, the board was prepped, and the outcome was inevitable. Why rush to pluck the fruit when he could let it ripen in the dark?

Now, his thoughts turned back to Ye Ling. Compared to the artificial rise of a “waste,” watching a Son of Providence navigate a pre-ordained tragedy was far more entertaining. But before he allowed Ye Ling to fulfill his purpose, he needed to squeeze more value out of the situation.

It’s time for an accident, Changge mused, a cold glint in his eyes. Yin Mei, it’s your turn to shine.

He vanished, racing toward the outskirts of the ruins. The area was a sprawling maze of jagged peaks, ancient rubble, and hidden lakes. Somewhere within this prehistoric wasteland, the Reincarnation Ancient Heavenly Sovereign had hidden a cave mansion. Changge didn’t care for the hunt itself; he was a busy man.

While Ye Ling fumbled for the keys, Changge would continue his tour of the ancestral tombs. Reaching the Saint Realm was his only true priority. He scoured the mountain ranges, looking for the tell-tale signs of ancient burials.

He knew that some Quasi-Supreme corpses in these lands had been buried for eras. Between the Quasi-Supreme and the true Supreme lay the “Nine Heavens”—a gap so vast it took a million years for some to cross. A cultivator at the Ninth Heaven of the Quasi-Supreme Realm was a hair’s breadth away from godhood, possessing a lifespan that defied time itself.

Changge remembered the Ancient Heavenly Origin Supreme he’d devoured previously. That body had been shattered and drained of divinity long before he found it. Here, the corpses were fresher, more “potent.” Of course, with such power came the risk of “inauspiciousness”—the strange, red-haired mutations that plagued those who reached the end of their lives in despair.

While the scavengers and the schemers prowled the ruins, the center of the Immortal Ancient Continent felt a tremor of true power.

The True Dragon Clan—the self-proclaimed royalty of the Remnant Races—held undisputed sway over the land. Though their blood was diluted and they were not true draconic scions, their heritage made them the apex predators of the continent.

BOOM!

In a desolate mountain range, the peaks suddenly detonated from within. Pillars of divine light surged into the sky, vaporizing wandering beasts and unsuspecting creatures in an instant.

From the heart of the explosion, a young man stepped forth. He wore simple cyan robes, but his presence was anything but common. At that moment, he felt as though he held the firmament on his shoulders.

Behind him, phantoms of dying universes and withering worlds flickered in the air. Golden dragon shadows circled him, their roars splitting the eight desolates. He was the True Dragon made flesh.

His eyes were terrifying, containing the rotation of stars and a weight that could crush the weak with a glance. Two crystalline horns grew from his brow, covered in pale cyan scales that thrummed with a power capable of piercing the void.

“Congratulations on your emergence, Lord Long Teng!”

A sea of followers—men and women of exceptional power—dropped to their knees. Even the women in his retinue were at the Conferred King or Void God realms, and each was a beauty of peerless quality.

“Rise,” Long Teng said, his voice a calm tide.

He was the definition of absolute confidence. In his mind, the world was a banquet laid out for his pleasure. He viewed himself as second to none. He had reached the peak of the Void God Realm, standing at the precipice of igniting his True Dragon Fire to achieve the True God Realm.

Since the day of his birth, he had never known the meaning of defeat. Not even a single opponent had forced him to use both hands. To the elders of the Dragon Clan, he was a god reborn. To himself, he was simply an emperor choosing his concubines.

“What of my instructions?” Long Teng asked as they moved through the valley.

With the continent open to the outside, he viewed the visiting “geniuses” as a shipment of high-quality livestock—specifically, the women.

“Lord, we have captured several of the outside world’s daughters,” a follower reported, presenting jade talismans that displayed their images.

Long Teng scanned them with the bored indifference of a monarch selecting from a catalog. He knew the outsiders were weak; the “Immortal Ancient” era had ended for them long ago, and their environment had degraded into a spiritual desert. His people, however, had lived in a time capsule of primeval density.

“Lord,” the Dragon Girl who had fought Yue Mingkong stepped forward, her face a mask of fawning desperation. “I have found a woman worthy of you. Her beauty is once in a million years.”

She produced a memory stone. Long Teng watched as the image of a woman with flowing black hair and a picturesque immortal face appeared. Even through a recording, her elegance was breathtaking, her robes fluttering like the wings of a deity.

The valley fell silent. Long Teng’s breathing hitched, his eyes widening with a raw, predatory hunger.

“Who is she? Where is she?” he demanded, his voice a low growl of excitement.

“Her name is Yue Mingkong,” the Dragon Girl replied, eager to claim her reward. “She is the Crown Princess of an Unrivaled Celestial Dynasty. They say she has the bearing of a female emperor.”

She paused, choosing her next words carefully. “She has a fiancé—a man from the Immortal Gu Family. He is the Successor of the Daootian Immortal Palace, said to possess True Immortal aptitude.”

“True Immortal aptitude?” Long Teng laughed, the sound echoing through the mountains. “In this world? A hollow title for a weakling.”

He turned his gaze toward the horizon, his aura flaring until the ground cracked beneath his feet. “A picturesque emperor-beauty… she will make an excellent addition to my hall. As for the fiancé? If he tries to stop me, I’ll simply slap him into meat paste.”

Long Teng didn’t care for status or history. In the Immortal Ancient Continent, might was the only law.

“Let’s go. I wish to see if she looks as good in person as she does in this stone.”

He led his army of followers toward the gather areas of the outsiders, leaving a trail of shattered peaks in his wake. The true storm was about to begin.