Demonic Witches Harem: Having Descendants Make Me Overpowered! - Chapter 105: He Had To Survive

The eternal night is coming, and the killing ground descends.Gods fall, and a hundred ghosts parade at night.You can stand in the forefront and announce the arrival of the era's tide to the world, or you can hide in the darkness and coldly observe the struggle of others to survive.Liberate your thoughts, embrace your destiny, this is the absolute real game, this is, Earth's Killing Field.

Wang Sheng arrives in a world sealed by qi, where danger lurks at every turn. Fortuitously, he awakens a progress bar that can break through all limits, turning everything into possibility!Inner Core Skill—Refine essence into qi, the fundamental path, eternal void, achieving true immortality!Ba Duan Jin—Constructing the foundation, limitless qi and blood, rebirth from a drop of blood, the flesh becomes sacred!No Life True Void Induction Sutra—A virtual world, infinite simulation, the name of No Life, spread across all heavens!Heaven and Earth, the Ages—Control of time and space, reversing life and death!...The true immortal watching the winds and clouds is me, the No Life True Saint representing transformation is me, the one who controls time and reverses life and death is me, the one using the true vacuum homestead to harvest all realms is also me!--------------------This is a story of Wang Sheng basing on Ba Duan Jin as the foundation, using Inner Core Skill as the fundamental method, achieving everlasting life...

“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.

Eight hundred years ago, Zhang Ruochen, the son of Emperor Ming, was killed by his fiancee, Princess Chi Yao.

Eight hundred years later, Zhang Ruochen came back to life, only to discover that the fiancee who once killed him had unified the Kunlun realm and opened up the first central empire, known as “Queen Chi Yao”.

Empress Chi Yao – ruling the world, she is powerful in all directions; youth is eternal, immortal and immortal.

Zhang Ruochen stood outside the ancestral hall of the emperors, looking at the statue of Empress Chi Yao, with a raging flame of hatred burning in his heart, “When I rebuild it for thirteen years, dare to call the empress to Huangquan.”

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