All-rounder Artist - Chapter 937 - 870 The 1st Full House_2

This is a world where humans, demons and mysterious beasts coexist. Humans cultivate mysterious qi. Demons cultivate corporeal bodies. Mysterious beasts cultivate soul perception. A legend says that in the middle of an endless rainforest, there are extremely powerful existences; they are called demon kings. Some demon kings have a tyrannical corporeal body, some are experts in illusions. Some demon kings are proficient in magic, some can even move mountains. Some demon kings are able to sense things thousands of miles away. These demon kings rarely appear in the human world. Even if they emerge in the human world, they would reincarnate in human form; assimilating with mankind while seeking to breakthrough realms…….

“I am Bianca Valestra, Witch of the Frozen Night, an enemy of Humanity. By choosing to follow me, you will be fighting not just humans—but the entire world. I no longer wish to lie to you, Elian. If you wish to walk away or choose another path, I will let you.”Yet the boy shook his head and laid his hand gently over hers.“I am no longer human. I just committed what I think to be genocide. I am not afraid. For you—the one who saved me, gave me purpose, and my only desire—I will fight. I do not care how many come. I will kill them all.”___In the year 2030, everything changed.Portals to other dimensions appeared without warning.We called them dungeons.And from them came monsters that knew only destruction.But in humanity’s darkest hour, a sliver of hope emerged.People began awakening strange abilities—Talents—to fight back.Years passed. A fragile normal returned.Our story begins with Elian Reeds, a teenage student born in this new world—without a Talent.A Defect, they called him. Useless. Broken.That is, until he meets her.A fallen villainess whose name still strikes fear and reverence alike:Bianca Valestra—divine in beauty, and colder than death.This is the tale of their meeting.The chronicle of their journey.And the legacy of their triumph.

Roger’s remarks before his execution opened the chaotic era of great pirates. At the same time, this is also an era of **.

Former One Piece crew member, Giotto witnessed the beginning of the era and established his own family with a system.

The navy has three generals, and the pirates have four emperors?

So it’s not too much for me to have six guardians in Peng Lie?

Is the world government cp organization haunted?

The strongest assassination unit, Balian, find out…

Here, the name of Peng Lie will spread all over the sea!

- Description from novelbuddy

“Villains aren’t born, they’re made...blah...blah...”Cute quote. Stick it on your Tumblr header next to your anime pfp.You boys love your villain stories, don’t you?You want carnage. Chaos. Control. You want a dark throne, a cold smirk, and a woman kneeling at your feet begging for mercy.But you?You don’t want to lift a damn finger.You’ll cheer for the villain as he kills a god, but cry when he gets betrayed.You call it “plot armor” when the hero survives—but call it “art” when the villain does the impossible.You’re not fans of villains.You’re fetishists.You want the violence, but not the silence after it.You want domination, but not the burden of being hated.You want power, but only if the story forgives you for it.You don’t read these stories to understand evil.You read them because you think you're too good to win the normal way.“Villains don’t play fair.”Exactly. That’s why you love them.Because you wouldn’t last a day in a world where strength mattered and excuses didn’t.You don’t want a villain’s life.You want his results.You want to watch him burn the world for a woman.But you’d cry if a girl left you on read.So tell me—What exactly are you rooting for?At least unlike you, I support heroes—the ones with boobs.You know the type.Tits squeezed into latex, thighs tight in spandex, preaching virtue with cum-drunk eyes the moment they fall into my arms but always end up screaming my name instead.She flies above cities, saving lives like it’s her job.But at night? She crashes into my arms, trembling, moaning, clawing at my back like I’m the only real thing she’s ever touched.Her cape drops before her guard does.But I don't need to tear it off.She hands it over herself—bit by bit, kiss by kiss, lie by beautiful lie.You ever felt a heroine's breath hitch in your ear as she begs you to stop pretending you're the bad guy?Ever watched the symbol of hope ride you like you're the last man left after the world ended?That's not conquest.That’s devotion, baby.Unfiltered. Undeniable.And the irony?They fall the hardest.Because no villain ever tried to understand them. No hero ever dared to see past the shine and into the ache beneath.But I do.I whisper into the cracks of their perfection.I plant kisses where they hide their pain.I fuck them where they forget to wear their strength.And when they break—when their moans turn to prayers, when their strength melts into submission—That’s when I rise.I’m not just some brooding misfit out for revenge, or a misunderstood loner sitting around hoping for a shot at redemption.I’m not a villain.I’m the SUPERVILLAIN—the kind your heroines moan for when the cameras are off and the capes are crumpled on my floor.