How Does The Protagonist Justify Their Actions In 'I'M A Villain Not A Hero'?

Himura in 'My Hero Academia' is a fascinating gray-area character, neither purely heroic nor outright villainous. His actions blur moral lines—driven by trauma, he seeks justice through extreme means, like targeting corrupt heroes. His backstory reveals systemic failure, making his rage understandable yet his methods indefensible. Unlike traditional villains, he doesn’t crave chaos but reform, albeit violently. The narrative forces viewers to question hero society’s flaws through him. His duality is the point: a dark mirror to Deku’s idealism, highlighting how society creates its own monsters. What sets Himura apart is his charisma and conviction. He rallies followers not with lies but painful truths, exposing hypocrisy. His quirk, often used lethally, symbolizes his 'ends justify means' philosophy. Yet, in quieter moments, he shows remorse, suggesting he could’ve been a hero under different circumstances. The story refuses to villainize or redeem him entirely, leaving his legacy debated among fans. That ambiguity is why he’s one of the series’ most compelling figures.

'I'm a Villain Not a Hero' flips the script on classic hero tropes in the most refreshing way. Instead of following a righteous protagonist saving the day, we get a lead who embraces his role as the villain with zero apologies. The usual tropes of self-sacrifice, moral dilemmas, and heroic speeches are tossed out the window. This guy operates on pure self-interest, and it's hilarious how he outsmarts the so-called heroes by playing dirtier than they ever could. The story revels in showing how the 'heroes' are often hypocrites, bound by rigid codes that make them predictable and weak. The villain protagonist exposes their flaws by refusing to follow the same rules, turning their nobility into a liability. What's even better is how the narrative deconstructs the idea of 'destiny' or 'chosen ones.' The protagonist isn’t some fated savior—he’s a schemer who claws his way to power, mocking the idea that goodness alone guarantees victory. The world isn’t black and white; the heroes are just as corruptible, and the villain’s pragmatism often leads to better outcomes than their idealism. The story also plays with power dynamics—unlike traditional heroes who grow stronger through training or fate, the protagonist wins by manipulation, alliances, and sheer audacity. It’s a brutal takedown of the idea that heroes are inherently superior, and it makes for a wildly entertaining read.

Toji’s role in 'My Hero Academia' is shrouded in mystery, but the narrative hints at a complex trajectory. His background—steeped in tragedy and moral ambiguity—positions him as a wildcard rather than a straightforward villain. The series excels at redeeming flawed characters, yet Toji’s ruthless pragmatism and disdain for hero society’s ideals clash violently with its ethos. His actions could destabilize the status quo, forcing heroes to confront systemic failures they’ve ignored. What fascinates me is how his arc might mirror Stain’s: a villain whose ideology exposes cracks in hero culture. Unlike All For One’s blatant evil, Toji’s motivations feel personal, almost relatable. His combat skills, devoid of Quirks, challenge the very foundation of the superpowered world. Whether he becomes an antagonist or an anti-hero depends on how Horikoshi weighs redemption against chaos. The tension lies in his unpredictability—a man unbound by rules, capable of both destruction and unexpected alliances.

Reading 'I'm a Villain Not a Hero' was a blast, especially because it doesn’t follow the typical hero-meets-girl trope. The protagonist is unapologetically a villain, and the romantic subplot is more twisted than sweet. There’s a fascinating dynamic between him and a rival assassin—their interactions are charged with tension, but it’s more about power plays than lovey-dovey moments. The author throws in some dark humor, like the protagonist casually sabotaging dates or manipulating emotions for his own gain. It’s not romance in the traditional sense; it’s more like a game of chess where feelings are just another weapon. The closest thing to a romantic arc involves a morally gray character who oscillates between wanting to kill him and being weirdly attracted to his chaos. Their relationship is unpredictable, with moments that could almost pass as romantic if they weren’t so messed up. The story leans into the idea that villains don’t get fairy-tale endings—they get messy, complicated entanglements that keep readers hooked. If you’re expecting flowers and confession scenes, you won’t find them here. Instead, you get a gritty, unconventional take on relationships that fits perfectly with the protagonist’s ruthless persona.

The antagonists in 'I'm a Villain Not a Hero' are a fascinating mix of morally grey characters and outright villains that keep the story thrilling. At the forefront is the Crimson Syndicate, a powerful underground organization led by the enigmatic and ruthless Lucian Black. Lucian is not your typical mustache-twirling villain; he’s charismatic, intelligent, and genuinely believes his actions are for the greater good, even if they involve manipulation, assassinations, and destabilizing governments. His right-hand, the assassin known as Vesper, is equally compelling—cold, calculating, and loyal only to Lucian, making her a terrifying adversary. Then there’s the Ironfang Brotherhood, a rival faction that’s more brutal but less strategic. Their leader, Kraven, is a brute force villain who thrives on chaos and destruction, contrasting sharply with Lucian’s refined cruelty. The Brotherhood often clashes with both the protagonist and the Syndicate, adding layers of conflict. Smaller antagonists like the rogue scientist Dr. Helix, who experiments on humans to create super-soldiers, and the corrupt Senator Voss, who pulls strings from the shadows, round out the roster. What makes these antagonists stand out is how their motivations intertwine with the protagonist’s past, creating personal stakes beyond just world-ending threats. The author does a great job showing how each antagonist challenges the protagonist in unique ways, whether through intellect, strength, or moral dilemmas.

The main villain in 'Adventures in My Hero Academia' is Tomura Shigaraki, a chaotic force of destruction with a grudge against hero society. His Quirk, Decay, lets him disintegrate anything he touches, making him terrifying in close combat. Shigaraki starts as a petty villain but evolves into a symbol of anarchy, leading the Paranormal Liberation Front. His backstory reveals deep trauma, which fuels his desire to tear down the world that failed him. The series does a great job showing his growth from a reckless troublemaker to a calculated threat who even All For One recognizes as his successor. His twisted ideology and raw power make him stand out among shonen antagonists.

Warner in 'Unravel Me' is this layered character who defies simple labels like hero or villain. The story paints him in such complex shades that I find myself arguing about him with friends for hours. On the surface, he’s the ruthless leader of Sector 45, commanding soldiers with an iron fist and pursuing Juliette with a obsession that borders on terrifying. His methods are brutal—interrogations, psychological manipulation, and a willingness to sacrifice anyone for his goals. But here’s where it gets messy: his motivations aren’t just power for power’s sake. He genuinely believes in order, in protecting what’s left of their broken world, even if it means becoming the monster everyone fears. The way Tahereh Mafi writes his internal struggles makes him impossible to dismiss as a one-dimensional bad guy. Then there’s his relationship with Juliette. It’s toxic, possessive, and yet weirdly tender at times. He sees her as his equal, someone who could stand beside him rather than cower beneath him. That twisted admiration blurs the lines further. He’s not a traditional hero—he doesn’t fight for justice or freedom—but he’s not purely a villain either. His backstory, especially the abuse from his father, adds another layer. You start to understand why he clings to control so desperately. The real brilliance of Warner is how he forces you to question what makes someone 'evil.' Is it their actions? Their intentions? Or just whose side you’re on? By the end of 'Unravel Me,' I was half-convinced he’s a tragic figure trapped in his own making, and that’s what keeps me hooked.

The 'Primogenitor' in Marvel is a fascinating character because he doesn’t fit neatly into the hero or villain category. He’s one of the Proemial Gods, ancient cosmic beings who existed before the current Marvel universe. His actions are more about survival and the natural order than good or evil. He’s willing to wipe out entire civilizations to preserve balance, which makes him seem like a villain, but from his perspective, it’s just necessary maintenance of the cosmos. His motivations are so far beyond human morality that labeling him as purely heroic or villainous feels reductive. What makes him especially interesting is how he interacts with other cosmic entities. He’s not malicious for the sake of it; he’s just operating on a scale where individual lives are insignificant. When he clashes with heroes like the Avengers or Silver Surfer, it’s less about conquest and more about enforcing his vision of universal order. His power level is absurd—think reality-warping abilities and near-omnipotence—which means he’s rarely a straightforward antagonist. He’s more of a force of nature, and whether you see him as a hero or villain depends entirely on whether you’re in his way.