MTL - After Wearing the Book, I and the Protagonist Attack the Female King - Chapter 69

Hello, my name is Hespera, and I am a psychopath or at least that is what all my doctors kept saying... and the god of reincarnation. He and the primordial of Chaos were quite the amusing duo. Oh, did I mention that I am also the first (and last) family member of Chaos. Yeah, that surprised me too. Apparently becoming a Blessed isn't easy.Anyway, I'm about to head out to my... hmm, fifth world? Or was it the sixth? Oh drat, I lost count! Well, whatever. It was lovely meeting you strange person from behind the screen. Please enjoy my life as-Girls! Stop groping me~

What happens when you run really low on luck and get intimately entangled with a perfect on the outside and ruthless on the inside man? Well, sparks fly but not the kind you imagine in cute fluffy love stories.

Already an orphan, Xia Xi Jin has been struggling through these past years to make a bare minimum living. She is a struggling writer who seems to have a careless attitude towards life and a dirty appearance. However, after a one-night stand with President Xi Mu Tian everything changes.

Being forced into a marriage Xi Jin tries to adapt to her new life, new friends and begins to unravel the mysteries of her past and that of her husband. Can love bloom in this penned down marriage of convenience. Read to know!

- Description from Novelupdates

Qin Ran just wanted to cultivate immortality, refine pills, and live a carefree life as an immortal world slacker. But a genius female disciple just had to get clingy, insisting that he take her as a disciple. Not only that, she was always making advances on him, thoroughly disrupting his peaceful slacker life…

“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.