I Am the God of Games - Chapter 364 - Steel Earth

NOTE: cover art is a commission done by Ripcorez a fellow author on here and amazing artist. If you like his work, don’t hesitate to reach out to him with a request for a commission of your own

Samuel Foster would be turning 18 in two weeks. He grew up in a fairly normal low case family home with his parents and two younger siblings. The thing out of the ordinary was he knew for as long as he could remember he would be getting married at 18 to a girl he never had met before due to a promise his family had made.

Lena Scarlet, Princess Scarlet was feared by many, respected and loved by everyone near her. Deadly as she was calm, her one annoyance in life was the arranged married he father decided upon before she was born. Being fiercely independent and trained to protect herself, she never felt the need for a relationship or marriage as she fully capable of taking care of all her needs.

However, a promise was a promise and whether either of them liked it or not, their parents were at least going to force them to live together before calling the wedding off.

Please give the book a chance. I’m not the greatest of synopsis writers, as I am sure some of you can tell and the book may be slow at first due to the setup and lead in. But I promise it will getting more interesting as it goes along.

Scene excerpt from the story:

“You didn’t happen to think it was important to tell before now?! The princess was furious with the other woman.

“I..” She paused for a second to swallow,

“I never thought that it would come down to this. I promise though that they wouldn’t do anything terrible.”

“They said the same thing to my father.. but they were wrong. I don’t trust anyone’s word.” The princess replied standing up. The more her anger rose, the darker her eyes got.

“You should just be fortunate that I am not my father. Do you know what he did when faced with a similar situation?” with no reply, she continued

“He killed almost all of them. You could say it was a massacre. Me, I won’t got that far, but if anything happens to him, I will personally kill the person who touches him.”

As long as the land is square, Yan Bicheng should divide the world into four parts.
The dark organization “Ruyimen” has abducted children for many years, trained them as assassin agents, and sent them to the families of various countries for use in order to collect a lot of secrets, and gradually extended their evil hands to the court.
Feng Xiaoya, the favored minister of the King of Yan, suffers from bone melting disease. She is unparalleled in her “sickness and beauty”. For some reason, she abandons the eleventh wife, Qiu Jiang, and puts her under house arrest in the mountains. Qiu Jiang, who has forgotten his past, fled alone on a stormy night. After several twists and turns, on the way back, he met Yi Fei, the third prince of Cheng who was in trouble in a foreign land.
One wants to regain memory, the other wants to regain the throne. The two people who are incompatible with each other walk side by side towards Cheng in a bloody storm… but they find that the Ruyi Gate, which has been entrenched in Chengjing for a hundred years like a poisonous snake, seems to have undergone an unknown shock… …
The situation of the Four Kingdoms is back, and there is only one goal – to eradicate the evil organization Ruyimen!
However, as Qiu Jiang’s memory slowly recovered, a unparalleled secret finally surfaced…
Mrs. Ruyi, who is it? There is another mystery behind Ji Ying’s death?
What is the purpose of this return journey after a narrow escape, and where does it go?

- Description from novelbuddy

Riku Barusak is a hard-working child. Despite possessing an innate superior physical strength and having withstood harsh training she fails to unlock her talent as a spiritualist. The failure results in her being thrown away by her family.

“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.