I Woke My Disabled Husband up at Wedding Night! - Chapter 229: The Person Young Master Fu Likes Is Miss Su

You’re a struggling young doctor, barely making ends meet with a measly $2000 monthly income. Life’s pressures and trials weigh heavily upon you!But lo and behold! One fine morning, you wake up to find yourself equipped with some sort of cheat codes…You’re scheduled for an appendectomy, so you roll up your sleeves and get ready to explore the abdominal terrain:You touch the cecum: “Cecum: Healthy!”You palpate the colon: “Colon: All clear!”You reach the appendix: “Appendix: It’s an inflamed, pus-filled appendix monster, level 15, rare creature. Recommendation: Perform an appendectomy!”With a decisive hand, you wield your scalpel and skillfully remove the troublesome appendix.“Ding! Rare appendix monster eliminated! Rewards: +100 experience in appendectomy, +$100, and a shiny white suture needle!”And thus, your journey begins as an emergency surgeon. But remember, with great healing powers comes great responsibility!

Beichuan, who loves animation, finally came to study in District 11. After graduating, he always wanted to become an original artist and worked hard for it, but unexpectedly it became a production process. For this reason, his goal has a new change, becoming Supervision!

“Lao Xu, please stop your pen.”

“Senior Nakamura, you have to continue to live.”

Disclaimer: This book is a lot of daily life, it is a white box fandom single heroine, don’t spray if you don’t like it.

- Description from novelbuddy

Every time he dies, Ethan Hill gains a little more power.Earth was chosen for Integration, but Ethan knows from the second his Trial begins that the Integration is a lie. These creatures giving Earth the 'honor' of access to their Interface want something from Earth - he just doesn't know what.Now he's trapped on an alien planet and lost in a time loop, fighting for strength and for his own humanity.One thing's for sure: He'll die as many times as it takes to tear it all down.

“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.