Grave

In the vast Crystal Hall, several Empire Leaders stood facing a middle-aged villainous uncle wrapped head to toe in black robes.

To be fair, this guy really did not look suited to being called a villain. Countless works of fiction had taught us that being a villain required more than just a filthy mind and rotten intentions; you also needed a striking appearance. Either you went for the beastly route, built like a tiger with a back broad enough to block the sun, eight feet tall and eight feet around, wearing a ferocious face that could block phone signals head-on. Even if you could not become the final boss, you could at least scare people as one of the little bosses in the second-to-last stage. Or you were born with an androgynous beauty capable of toppling kingdoms, shining with such an aura from the very first episode that you looked like the male lead. From behind, without subtitles, people would think you were some princess who had fled her own wedding. Add a mind shocking enough to stun the world, and someone who could plague the masses just by moving around would be wasted if he did not become the final boss... Anyway, anyone better-looking than me was automatically a villain in my book.

In short, if you wanted to be a bad guy, you either took the beastly route or the idol route. Villains who went for an approachable image had a very low success rate—my inability to become a villain was ironclad proof.

And this Ockham—no offense, but aside from the disgusting things he did, what about that face of his looked villainous? He was as ordinary as Uncle Wang from next door. Spend five minutes at the market, and you could run into six or seven people