Cinnamon Bun - Chapter Eighteen - Pick a Pixie

The world froze.Literally froze. The chattering students, the falling cherry blossoms outside the window, even the dust motes in the air – all suspended in perfect stillness.“Oh wonderful hero,” a melodious voice echoed through the room. “Your world faces a terrible crisis, and you have been chosen to—”“No,” he said flatly.A pause. Then a shimmer of golden light coalesced into the form of a beautiful woman in flowing robes. She blinked at him. “I... what?”“I said no. I'm not interested in whatever quest or destiny you're selling. Pick someone else.”The goddess's perfect features creased in confusion. “But... but you've been chosen! The prophecy speaks of a warrior with a fierce spirit, one who—”“Lady, I don't care about your prophecy. I've got enough problems here without adding some fantasy world's issues to the mix. Now un-freeze time and leave me alone.”“You don't understand,” she pressed. “Our world is being ravaged by the Demon King's armies! Millions will die without—”

There’s a trend infecting stories lately—all because of boys reading these stories rather than men.Villains who think being “dark” means having dead eyes, a tragic past, and a dick that solves all problems.They get betrayed once, and suddenly it's their life's mission to destroy the world—or worse, emotionally blackmail heroines in the name of “revenge.”Slap on a black coat, stare at walls, say something like “love is weakness”—and boom, readers start calling them “deep.”But let’s be honest:> They’re not villains. They’re just edgy losers with a god complex and a hard-on trying to satisfy the inferiority of their readers.Some of them turn so cold, they forget why they started. Others get so lust-drunk, they think sleeping with a heroine is “domination.”That making her cry is “control.” They think power is measured by how many women they can ruin. But really?> They’re just boys trying to look like men.Just like their followers who are the boys who hide their masculinity inside a woman's virginity.They go around in the review section asking if the women of the main character would be stolen and all... giving it fantasy names like NTR and all nonsense.As if they want to scream their fear out.“Please don't, I hate it... because I am a gay who doesn't even have the confidence that my woman will remember me once she gets someone better....” one of the loser’s internal thoughts.They don't want their puny hearts to be crushed.Their masculinity is so weak that it crumbles the moment they think about some other man having the women they love and her forgetting those boys for the men.And they just project that weakness of themselves in their main characters, thinking that just like them, their main characters should be weak, should be a fantasy monger who hoards women like trying to hide the incapabilities of those followers who never in their life would have held a hand of a woman.Harem has now become a way to satisfy weak audiences who feel more women mean more security for their hearts.Forgetting that Harem in truth means the masculinity is so HUGE that it needs an ocean of FEMININE to hold.Tch, not like the boys with breakups and fear of being cucked will ever realize.They treat fantasy as escape and character as their way to feel that they are men.So, naturally, to have such a huge amount of followers, authors are forced to pour the density of such books holding such weak characters in the form of the cold MC who collects harem, manipulates one or two, fucks around, and finally satisfies readers until they feel bored and drop the book....Because to those followers, they themselves realize in the long run that the story isn't satisfying even if the villain is the same cruel man.So why?Simply because they were until now reading kind boys wearing the mask of a man, and acting as a villain.Their MC, just like them, doesn't even know themselves, their needs, and what their inner soul wants... not understanding that...Fucking a woman doesn't make you her god. Breaking her spirit doesn't make you a king. And calling yourself a villain just because you were too weak to heal?That’s not power—that’s coping.And for followers—that's doping.Real villains? They don’t whine. They don’t treat women like checkboxes or trophies. They don’t mistake lust for legacy.> They don’t need to act cruel. They are cruel. Calm. Focused. Dangerous in silence. They don’t need to chase power—they embody it.This story isn’t about a guy who gets played and suddenly thinks he’s entitled to vengeance sex.This is about a villain who doesn’t....Ah, screw this shit. Just read the story already![ No Dumb Heroines ] [ No Cliche Plot ] [ Original Content ] [ Fan Services here and there ] [ R-18 might not come soon enough ] [ Yandere ] [ Tsundere ] [ MILF ] [ Dragon ] [ Elves ]

The strongest Demon Lord dies, and reincarnates as a human. Not only that, he because of various incidents turns into the hero’s best friend.

Follow his journey as he tries to help the hero escape his fate, and on the sideline to conquer the continent while he’s at it.

Ruan Qiuqiu had transmigrated into a cannon fodder that had the same name as her in the novel, Sweet Pampering in Ancient Times: Demon King Husband, Please Spare Me

Right now, there were two paths before her:

Option 1: Continue playing the role of the supporting female character. After a few rounds of being faceslapped by the female lead, she would die tragically in the beast tide.

Option 2: For the sake of the tribe having enough salt, marry the wolf tribe’s former chief, a fierce wolf demon that was disfigured, crippled, and possibly had personality issues.

Ruan Qiuqiu chose the second option without hesitation. She rather go live a peaceful and ambitious-free life than compete with the female lead over some guy.

—

Due to a mishap, Mr. Big Bad Wolf, who had the blood of fiends in him, had become disfigured, crippled, and blind.

He was on the verge of death and his tribe had abandoned him. When he fell to the state of being so hungry that he was gnawing on ice…

The young bride, who his tribe had exchanged 300 catties of salt for, carefully walked to his side and covered his ugly damaged body with an animal hide.

She softly called him, “Husband?”