I Beg You All, Please Shut Up - Chapter 117: The Difference between Wealthy Classes

Legend says, that there is a great demon, who is the human kind’s public enemy. He is the galaxy federations’ nightmare as he wanted to conquer the whole universe. On the first day, he completely took out the human fleet, plunging them into disorder. On the second day, he declared that he will wipe out the whole federation. On the third day, he declared——that the hero who shot him in their previous battle must marry him, or else, he will destroy everything.

The galaxy federation president and the council members had a long meeting after that. They decided to dispatch a soldier, Wu Xing Yun, and marries him off to the arrogant demon. Wu Xing Yun was once a hero who fought for the nebula, and henceforth, he was tasked—— for the sake human race and the universe’s peace, to eliminate mistresses, settle his matters with the mother-in-law, and fix the man’s crooked ways.

Wu Xing Yun was very perplexed when he asked his commanding officer: “Sir, why did it have to be this way?”

Commanding Officer: “Soldier, bear in mind, that this mission of yours, is for the sake of the universe and mankind’s happiness. You must hold on to your husband, and fight other mistresses! Do you have the confidence to accomplish this task?”

Wu Xing Yun, stood straight, saluted, and instinctively replied: “Sir, yes sir! I will accomplish this task!”

- Description from Novelupdates

Having been given a second chance at life, Xu Nianhua trusted no one but herself and swore to live for herself alone. But what did it mean when the good-looking guy with the limp always followed her around?A certain handsome guy, “It means nothing, it's said that happiness lasts long when you follow the one you love!”Tangtang's completed novel: “Rebirth in the '80s: Sweet Wife Enticing” is finished—quality assured!New book preview: After her rebirth, Cheng Yuan suspects her dad had a heart transplant. Her once cold and distant father suddenly dotes on her and becomes a money-making wizard.What's even more bizarre is that she has the same dream every day. In the dream, there's an outrageously handsome guy who just loves to sleep, and she always finds various ways to wake him up.The outrageously handsome guy, “If I ever catch the woman who doesn't let him sleep, I'll definitely teach her a harsh lesson!”Until one day, he met her.Reborn at the end of the '70s, she composes a brand new life.[PS: This book is an alternate history, fully fictional.]

[Warning: Mature content R-18 ]My tags: Smart Mc - Harem - Milf Hunter- Op Mc - Cold and cunning Mc - edgy-Op-Mc, NO YURI, smut- romance-massacre.As flames scorched the land and blood painted the soil, a lone figure stood atop a mountain of fallen demigods and chosen apostles, his blade, a masterpiece of folded steel, dripping with the blood of those who dared to invade. The gods had taken everything: his clan, his love, leaving him with nothing but wrath. They had made one critical mistake, however, they had crossed into Makaiyama (魔界山), the sacred mountain of Ryukoku’s most feared legend: the Heavenly Demon.Beyond the veil of space and time, celestial beings gazed in shock. “Impossible…” one god whispered, watching as the Heavenly Demon, armed with nothing but raw skill and a dark aura, felled three divine kin. Rage flared across their ranks as they saw their immortal kin fall to mere mortal swordsmanship, untainted by magic.Even as the Heavenly Demon staggered, weapons lodged deep into his body, he fixed his gaze forward, crimson eyes blazing with defiance. His obsidian katana, blood-soaked, pierced the peak of Makaiyama like a stake driven into the heart of heaven itself. His voice echoed in the darkness between life and death, and there, in the chasm of despair, a metallic whisper resonated:“[Project God Executioner has been activated.]”“[Accept?]” the voice asked.With a heart ablaze, he swore vengeance. He would rise, not as a puppet, but as the gods' executioner.

“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.