Became the Patron of VillainsRaising Villains The Right Way

악당들의 후원자가 되었다

Became the Patron of Villains — A Daoist Inkdrunk Review

Let me say this first, before the incense burns out:

Any review that cries “repetition” as if it’s a mortal sin is written by someone who has never cultivated past the first bottleneck. Life repeats. Cultivation repeats. Even enlightenment comes in cycles. If repetition offends you, close the book and go argue with time itself.

Now—Became the Patron of Villains.

I came in after skimming the manhwa, about a dozen chapters deep, expecting nothing more than a disposable satire. Instead, I found a quietly confident story that knows exactly what kind of chaos it’s brewing—and refuses to apologize for it.

This novel lives and dies by misunderstanding, but not the cheap, accidental kind. These misunderstandings are structural. They are the engine. The author doesn’t trip into them; he builds altars out of them and lets the cast worship freely.

The MC, is not dense in the usual idiotic sense. He is emotionally misaligned with the world. When asked if he’s about to die, he responds with the spiritual equivalent of “Ah. Is that so.” Even his magic feels like it’s being cast by someone watching the scene from three steps outside reality. He doesn’t posture. He doesn’t monologue like a shounen clown. He just… exists. Menacingly. Accidentally.

And that’s where the comedy hits.

The humor isn’t slapstick....it’s observational cruelty. Watching people project intentions, divinity, or hidden schemes onto someone who is mentally elsewhere is endlessly entertaining. The Five Sins in particular carry this novel on their backs; their interactions with Evan are consistently sharp, funny, and memorable. This is not a cast you forget once their arc ends. They recur. They echo. They leave fingerprints on later chapters.

As for the dreaded word—harem—let’s be honest instead of hysterical. Hundreds of chapters in, there are a few characters who admire or respect the MC. That’s it. No braindead ecchi. No accidental breast landings. No romance arcs pretending to be plot. In fact, there are zero romantic scenes so far......only reverence, obsession, projection, and warped loyalty. If that unsettles you, that’s not a flaw. That’s the point.

Is the plot tight and elegant? No. This is not a clockwork tragedy.

The story openly prioritizes satire over cohesion. Convenient plot devices appear. Side characters outside the core cast blur together. Some developments feel intentionally absurd, almost daring you to take them seriously. If you walk in demanding a meticulously woven epic, you’ll walk out disappointed.

But if you walk in understanding what you’re reading...a semi-slow burn satire powered by character dynamics, recurring setups, and long-tail foreshadowing....you’ll notice something else:

The novel remembers itself.

Details mentioned dozens of chapters ago resurface naturally. Time skips don’t feel like excuses; they feel like the world moving when you weren’t looking. The pacing doesn’t rush, but it doesn’t stall either. It trusts the reader to connect dots without being spoon-fed—and rewards you when you do.

This is not a masterpiece.
It is not profound.
It is not trying to be.

It is, however, a hidden gem...one that suffers mostly from readers who bounce off its tone before understanding its rules.

Give it ten chapters. That’s enough to know whether this Dao resonates with you.

If it does, you’ll keep reading.
If it doesn’t, no amount of persuasion will help.

And that, fellow cultivators, is as it should be.

— Daoist Inkdrunk wanderer,
If the road feels strange, it’s because you’ve stepped off the main path.

The novel found me

There's an adaptation of this novel on asurascans. Its called Raising villains the right way.

I swear to god that i will find the author behind these short ass synopsis and