NTR Villain: All the Heroines Belong to Me!

Li Chen stood on the rooftop access stairwell of the tallest building in the city.

Soaked in sweat. Covered in scrapes. His hoodie torn, spirit energy crackling wildly around his fists.

He had fought two elite security cultivators, crawled through a ventilation duct laced with spiritual suppression runes, and punched a reinforced steel elevator panel until it agreed to work.

But now…

He was here.

Standing before the obsidian double doors that led into Hei Long's private domain.

Li Chen's breath heaved. His shirt stuck to his skin. His System screamed at him:

[DING! WARNING: Threat Level – ABSURD.][Current Survival Odds: 3.2%][Active Skill Suggestion: Shut Up and Leave (Passive) now available.]

But Li Chen didn't back down.

Not this time.

He raised his hand.

And kicked the door in.

—

Inside the Penthouse

Marble floors. Black velvet walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the entire city. A fireplace that burned without logs. Somewhere, a guqin played itself softly.

And there he was.

Hei Long.

Seated on a sleek black couch, sipping from a porcelain teacup, robe open just enough to remind everyone that his chest had more abs than most men had regrets.

He didn't look up.

Didn't flinch.

Didn't care.

He just said, calmly, "You broke my lock."

Li Chen stalked forward, fists clenched, eyes wild. "I came to end this."

Hei Long raised an eyebrow. "You brought violence… into my home?"

"You've taken everything from me!" Li Chen snapped. "The spotlight, the story, the girls—Yuran!"

Hei Long finally set down his cup.

"Correction," he said, rising slowly, "you lost them. I simply caught what fell."

Li Chen screamed and rushed forward, activating three System buffs at once:

[Dragon Vein: Activated][Heavenly Pressure: Activated][Protagonist Surge: 150% Output for 30 Seconds]

He moved fast.

Faster than ever.

But not faster than Hei Long.

Hei Long moved like smoke.

One shift of weight.

One palm strike.

Li Chen slammed into the marble wall hard enough to crack it.

He groaned, blood trickling from his nose.

"You think you're special," Hei Long said, walking forward. "Because a glowing box told you so. Because some fate string chose you."

He crouched.

Grabbed Li Chen by the collar.

"You're a plot device with fists. A tantrum in a shirt."

Li Chen punched upward.

Hei Long caught it.

Crushed his wrist.

And whispered, "I'm not a villain in your story. You're a footnote in mine."

Then he threw him.

Through the glass.

Li Chen crashed through the window, falling—

And landed hard on the balcony one floor below.

Broken. Moaning. Alive only because Hei Long let him live.

Security Room – Minutes Later

Hei Long adjusted his sleeves as his private guards scrambled into the room.

"Sir! He broke in, attacked—should we—"

"No," Hei Long said.

He stared out the shattered window at the broken form of Li Chen, slowly dragging himself away in shame.

"He got what he came for."

He turned.

Sat back down.

And resumed sipping his tea.

—

Elsewhere – Zhao Yuran's Dorm Room

She watched the replay on her tablet.

Again.

And again.

Paused on the moment Hei Long caught Li Chen's fist.

Her fingers curled against her lips.

She should've felt something.

Pity?

Guilt?

But all she whispered was—

"I never stood a chance."

Leng Qingxue, Reading in the Library

She smirked when she got the update.

The System had tried to auto-play a victory theme for Li Chen.

Hei Long had canceled it manually.

She sipped her tea and murmured, "He's learning restraint."

. . . . . . .

Li Chen, Alone in the Rain.

He limped through the alleyways, holding his ribs, coughing blood and shame.

"System…" he whispered.

[Ding... System Recalibrating...][New Path Detected: "Redemption Arc… denied."][Searching alternate route: "Revenge Via Unstable Artifacts."]

Li Chen laughed.

It wasn't brave.

It wasn't triumphant.

It was hollow.

Because now?

He didn't want to win.

He just wanted Hei Long to fall.

Even if it broke the world.

The shattered glass from Li Chen's recent intrusion had already been cleared.

In its place, an even stronger set of spiritual barrier windows had been installed — rune-etched, spirit-enhanced, and resistant to brute force, divine Qi, and petty jealousy.

Hei Long stood barefoot on the balcony, a glass of amber liquor in hand. The city stretched beneath him like a living machine — pulses of traffic, skyscrapers like circuit boards, neon signs blinking beneath the stars.

He didn't look tired.

He never looked tired.

His robe hung loose, the wind catching the hem. His expression was blank, as it often was, carved in stone and silence.

But his mind was restless.

Because someone had left a letter on his desk.

And that someone had used a seal he hadn't seen in a very, very long time:

The City Arctic Lotus Sect.

The sect that Leng Qingxue had once come from.

His former disciple.

Now a grown woman who still called him Master.

He had burned that bridge years ago.

Apparently, someone was trying to rebuild it.

Or weaponize it.

He didn't like either option.

Elsewhere – Zhao Yuran's Room

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, eyes red-rimmed, robe half-unfastened, spiritual energy smoldering around her like the embers of a fire that didn't know whether to burn or die.

She hadn't slept in two days.

Li Chen had come to see her after the penthouse disaster. He'd limped in, asked for healing, for sympathy.

She had nodded.

Healed his arm.

And then quietly asked him to leave.

There was a time she would've run to him. There was a time she thought his suffering was noble. Romantic. Proof of devotion.

But now?

She could only think of the way Hei Long had moved.

The way he hadn't just defeated Li Chen.

He'd dismissed him.

Like a background character interrupting the wrong scene.

And what did that say about her?

What did it say about the choices she'd made?

The men she'd admired?

The future she'd imagined?

She didn't know anymore.

But she did know this:

She wanted answers.

And only one man could give them.

She began to write.

Letter: Zhao Yuran → Hei Long

Master Hei,

I do not write to apologize.I do not write to explain.

I write because something inside me won't stay still.

I once believed I knew what warmth was.That effort, kindness, persistence — these things would be enough to build a life.

But I have seen how you move without effort.How others orbit you without permission.How my own flame hesitates in your shadow.

And I hate you for that.

I hate how curious I've become.

I will see you at the leadership summit.Do not ignore me.

—Zhao Yuran

Morning – Imperial University, Private Training Field

The world had changed.

Not loudly.

Not obviously.

But subtly.

Hei Long's name was now whispered in awe and fear even among faculty. Sect recruiters who once courted Li Chen now booked appointments to meet with Hei Long's assistant.

Social media overflowed with Hei Long edits. Fan accounts. Memes. Cultivation conspiracy threads about whether he was the reincarnation of a Sword God.

Even the professors had begun calling him "Sir."

And most disturbing of all?

Leng Qingxue had begun smiling.

Not often.

Not publicly.

But when they sparred alone — when blades clashed and wind howled and time seemed to bend around them — she would smile.

Just a little.

And he never stopped her.

Later – University Summit Grounds, Eastern Pavilion

The Imperial University Leadership Summit was not a casual affair.

It was a gathering of heads — department chairs, sect envoys, influential alumni, wealthy sponsors.

It was also the first time Hei Long would be attending in person.

He arrived as he always did: unannounced, unhurried, and unmistakably dominant.

Black robes. Silver trim. Hair tied high. He didn't speak to anyone on the way in. Didn't smile. Didn't wave.

And yet the crowd parted before him like water around a blade.

At the center of the courtyard stood three key figures:

— The Dean.— An Elder from the Thunderstrike Sect.— And Zhao Yuran.

She was dressed in ceremonial crimson, her hair adorned with phoenix pins. Her presence was as striking as ever, but tonight… it was sharpened.

Not seductive.

Not furious.

Just focused.

She stepped into his path as he passed.

"Master Hei."

He stopped.

Looked at her.

She didn't flinch.

"You received my letter?"

"Yes," he said.

She waited for more.

There was none.

She inhaled. "Then you understand why I had to write it."

"I understand that you think clarity can be found in a flame."

"I think you make clarity hard to find."

He didn't argue.

She stepped closer. "Tell me something. Anything. Why did you never look at me?"

He finally met her eyes.

Dark. Still. Inevitable.

"Because I don't waste my gaze on things that hesitate," he said.

She reeled back as if struck.

But didn't cry.

Instead… she laughed.

Softly.

"That's what I needed to know," she said.

Then turned and walked away — shoulders proud, back straight, heart torn in ways even fire couldn't cauterize.

Meanwhile – Beneath the School Grounds

Deep underground, where spiritual light didn't reach, Li Chen stood alone.

Before him, sealed in a crystal prison older than recorded history, pulsed a forbidden artifact: the Eye of Reversal — said to give one man the power to undo fate, rewrite laws, and devour the script of the world itself.

The System screamed:

[WARNING: This Item Is Banned by 19 Heavenly Orders.][WARNING: Exposure May Lead to Narrative Collapse.][Continue?]

Li Chen's hands trembled.

"I don't care anymore."

[Last Chance: Turn Back.]

"I don't want to turn back," he whispered. "I want him to suffer."

And he reached forward.

Back at the Summit

Hei Long paused mid-conversation.

Something cold swept over him.

A distant chill. A ripple in the thread of reality.

He looked up at the sky.

Felt the world shift slightly.

And he whispered, "So that's how you want to play it."