Married to My Ex-Fiancé's Cousin - Chapter 511: Slap Him in the Face_1

Tens of billions of people around the world come to the heavens to kill the world at the same time.

Hundreds of countries including Lighthouse Country, Dragon Country, Sakurajima Country compete!

Qin Feng awakened his supreme talent at the beginning!

SSS-level talent – endless extraction!

He can extract everything! Including extracting gods and demons!

【Successful extraction! You get space skills! 】

【Successful extraction! You get time skills! 】

[The extraction is successful! You get 100 strength attributes! 】

[The extraction is successful! You get 100 points of agility! 】

[The extraction is successful! You have obtained A-level talent! 】

[The extraction is successful! You have obtained an S-level talent! 】

[Successful extraction! You get SS-level talent! 】

Since then, Qin Feng has started the road of infinite harvesting……

- Description from novelbuddy

“Hero, where are you going?”“To eat.”“Hero, where are you going?”“To the bathroom.”“Hero…!”“…”The woman who followed me everywhere… Ended up following me all the way to Earth.———A former hero who returned to Earth, now unemployed and just lazing around at home.Then, the saintess who came with him made a suggestion—“How about streaming?”“Hmm… This might actually be a good idea.”And so, the Hero & Saintess Healing Stream begins!

Kim Taejune, wanted to be a “hero,” a “savior” to all the weak. After reading books about them, he too wanted to be one. Yet he lacked power, he didn't have any skills, and the command system everyone else had but one day, his dream will come true. His path leads him to encounter Yoon Harin a woman who after the death of her twin younger brother Yoon Jiho was transmigrated into his novel, “Calamity Hunter” the “god” of this world makes a deal with Yoon Harin to bring her brother back to life IF she can survive as a savior till the end.

“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.