MMORPG : Rebirth Of The Strongest Vampire God - Chapter 774 Dracula Unleashed

The heiress to a powerful tech company, Diane Lily Hoffman, had a tough childhood filled with lies and mistreatment.At 14, her cruel stepmother tricked her into thinking her father had sold her to his enemies. From there, the family who adopted her abused her physically and emotionally.Using her as a ploy to get rich, her adopted family forced her into what she thought was a loveless marriage with a plastic surgeon named Gabriel.Despite what she perceived as a lack of love, she found solace in her married life until her path was chosen for her again and lies were made to drive a wedge between her and Gabriel.The divorce was painful and she realised all too late that everything was not what it seemed.Unfortunately, the lies her family crafted were too much for Gabriel to ever give her a chance again.Just as she was about to die, Diane was given a second chance to fix her mistakes.Now reborn, Diane is ready to find her real father and ex-husband, seeking revenge on the family that betrayed her and taking back the life and justice she deserves.

On a dark and windy night, the legendary military hero Qin Yu found a stunningly beautiful and drunk CEO. From then on, Qin Yu's life was completely transformed...

[Urban Martial Arts, Passionate Martial World.] He was a super expert who, due to accepting an inheritance, underwent a physical transformation that put his life at risk. To extend his life, the king returned...

“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.