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... s way. I returned inside the shipyard to the monitoring room that oversaw the test. People specially trained in their roles were there to take charge, so I was relegated to a simple spectator.

As exciting as the words space trials sounded, the majority of the test was quite mundane. The test crew was tasked with going over a long checklist of things, cycling through various systems. They were then instructed to do the simplest of tasks, like turning the ship a few degrees or decelerating ...

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I don’t know how to write an introduction. The few times I wrote it before, the more I wrote it, the more ugly it became. Let’s keep it simple:

This is a Marvel fan novel, with a little added Hong Kong manga elements, if you haven’t read Hong Kong manga, it won’t affect the reading experience.

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Bigshot's Sweetie Is a Cat!Chapter 582 - 592: Apart from gender and appearance, what else is like a woman?
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[Female Lead: Little Princess of the Cat Demon Clan] “Get off of me,” the man's voice carried a hint of helplessness and restraint.“I won't,” the girl shook her head, her arms tightly holding onto the man beneath her.“Be good, I can't sleep like this.”“But I always slept on top of you before.”“That was different... you're a human now.”In Capital City, a decisive, cruel, and cold-blooded mysterious head of the household unexpectedly gets saved by a tiny kitten, hence turning into a devoted slave to the cat, shocking all his subordinates.However, when one day he woke up to find the kitten in his arms had turned into a lovely and soft young girl, the head of the household was dumbstruck.Ask what's going on? Of course, it's a nurture story~Ask what to do? Naturally, continue to spoil her, just in a different way~“Young Master, everyone outside is saying that you have some special fetish. Why else would you spoil a cat to such an outrageously lawless degree?”The head of the household declared, “You know nothing, that's my wife.”This book is free of stale tropes, with fresh material, and is clean in regards to relationships. [The new book “Mr. Lu Has Made the Blacklist Again” has been released]

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The rich and famous people in Lintian Private Highschool were always gathered together, and Yu Xing, who has always been careful, was miserably tricked.

A group of rich classmates wrote a love letter to Sheng Yi in her name.

Rumor has it that this senior was surly and frivolous; he was a mountain biker, a fierce fighter, and the most ruthless person. He was also unpredictable; he would smile with a pair of peach blossom eyes, but whoever messed with him suffered greatly.

From then on, she had to stay cautious.

Then one day, Yu Xing was in trouble and hid in someone else’s place, and she ran into a strange boy.

He squatted in front of her and stared at the corner of her mouth, and told her with great interest, “You give me a kiss and I’ll help you get back, how about it?”

Yu Xing gave a perfunctory smile. “I’m sorry, I already have someone I like.”

Afraid that he wouldn’t believe her, she said emotionally, “He is the one who is the most powerful in Lintian Private Highschool. Our senior Sheng Yi is handsome and temperamental. I will live and die for him, and go to heaven and earth for his whole life!”

The words just fell out of her mouth.

The handsome teenager licked his lips and smiled–

“Is that so?” The pair of peach blossom eyes were very attractive. “What a coincidence. I am Sheng Yi.”

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I see the Milky Way, vast and boundless for a hundred thousand miles, but you are my only star.

*Exaggerated and fluffy, read this for personal enjoyment. Please do not look for depth or rich philosophical ideas about life, there are none here 🙂

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My SuperVillain System: Building Legion of SSS-Ranked SuperHeroinesChapter 34 - Ytrisia’s Suspicion
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“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.