Catgirls And Dungeons - Chapter 139: Alter

He possesses unparalleled martial arts, all the great Young Masters are under his feet!He has heaven-defying medical skills, even the dead can be brought back to life!He also has a pair of Supreme Quality Divine Eyes, capable of fighting, hypnotizing, you name it!

In the 21st century, she was the outstanding world renowned darling of the field of archeology. Then, she transmigrated and became Jinjiang city’s Ji Family’ Third Miss, a small malnourished girl who starved to death. She was unfavored by her father and treated like air by the rest. Therefore, just to earn money and feed herself she had to return to her old profession – being a forensic anthropologist.

With a pair of dextrous hands, she stroked and examined those clickety white bones to solve old and dusty unresolved cases.

He was a handsome cold prince. Just to see the beauty smile, he would not hesitate to throw away his moral principles and repeatedly flirt with her.

In the end, he only received a supercilious look from her, as she declared “Prince, one touch is a 1,000 taels.”

“Then, this prince will give you 10,000 taels for a kiss!”

I am Master Siwei, and I speak for arcane arts.
This is an era of heroes and heroines.
This is an era of great changes.
In the end, it will be an arcane era opened by me.

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.