Mr. Zhan's Little Demon is All Grown up - Chapter 2526: is her daughter

After her death in her previous life, a young woman was reborn in a new world with a unique, but powerful gamer system. Watch as she grows stronger, and finds love along the way!_____________________________Tags - Futanari, Overpowered, Gamer, Lesbian, AU, Alternate universe, fastpaced, TVD, Legacies, action, adventure, magic, harem and more.THERE IS A HAREM: 5 girls at maximum, currently with 3 of the five.

“Doc, it’s like the game I made is becoming a reality.”“Isn’t that nice? People are under so much pressure at work these days, but you can get away from it all, play the game, and live the life of your dreams.”“But I’m a famous ghost story game designer, I’ve conceived one hundred and twenty-six mu*der cases, portrayed dozens of mu*derers with different personalities, and to find material I’ve watched ninety-five thriller movies, more than four hundred horror comics, and collected more than two thousand urban weird tales. Now they all seem to be true!”“So …… do I look familiar to you?”

Li Yi once lived the dream of every pro gamer. He was at the top of his game with the best equipment, the highest stats, and everything a gamer could ever hope for. However, he soon realized that none of his ill-gotten gains for his to keep when he was branded Public Enemy Number One and killed in the biggest battle of the ages.

Now, he has the chance to turn back the clock and return to a time before his first mistake put him on the path of no return. This time, Li Yi will make different choices. With that, comes many interesting encounters — like saving a woman in distress then making love to her seven times in a row while her child slept in the next room. However, will he get back to what truly matters?

One thing is for sure, with the memories retained from his past, he will become King of this game.

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.