MTL - Horror Recovery: Drunk SS Grade Ghost Bride at the Start - Chapter 166

What do the words Third-Rate Villain mean?

Doesn't every human being possess their own background story?

Just because a game hadn't explored one's background story, does it mean those characters are irrelevant?

In a world where video games come to life, Astron Natusalune is introduced as a seemingly insignificant character—a third-rate villain with a minor role. However, this ordinary facade belies a haunting past that has shaped Astron into the vengeful soul he has become.

Someone who would do everything for his vengeance.

What will occur if Astron's soul combines with one from Earth? Will he relinquish his position as a third-rate villain, or will he forge a new path?

Driven by a singular purpose—to avenge his sister's tragic death and bring justice to a cruel world—Astron embarks on a transformative journey.

Witness the journey of the Astron as the young boy experiences a profound shift in his own values as he witnesses firsthand the consequences of unchecked vengeance and the true complexities of morality.

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In a world where life energy fuels martial prowess, Shen Yifan, with a mere mortal lifespan of a hundred years, finds solace in slaying demons to extend his own vitality. Amidst the chaos of a realm teeming with malevolence, he brandishes his blade, striking terror into the hearts of creatures who have roamed the earth for centuries! Yet, amidst his valiant exploits, Shen Yifan sometimes ponders, why does his lifespan seem to dwindle faster with each use of his powers? Sheathing his sword, he gazes skyward, hearing tales of the divine palace in the heavens, where immortal beings dwell, having weathered endless eons. Embarking on a celestial journey, he seeks to beseech the gods for a loan of a million years, to pave his path towards eternal life.

In a world where Lycans and werewolves are sworn enemies, Eve Valmont is a werewolf cursed by a prophecy and framed. Betrayed by her own pack and imprisoned for years, her fate takes a darker twist when she is offered to the Lycan King, Hades Stavros—a ruler feared for his ruthless conquests and deadly prowess. Bound by an ancient prophecy and haunted by the ghosts of her past, Eve is now at the mercy of the one being she should hate and fear the most—The Hand of Death himself.Hades, a king carved from blood and his own soul's decay, determined to avenge his family's slaughter and rid his people of the werewolves. He believes Eve is the key to his victory. To him, she is nothing but weapon foretold by prophecy, a tool he will wield to destroy the opposing forces threatening his pack. Yet, he finds himself craving this powerful yet broken woman. Leaving him questioning if she is truly his weapon or the one destined to unravel his carefully laid plans.***He stalked toward me, a predator closing in on its prey, his eyes dark and unreadable. “So, you laugh?” His voice was low, dangerously soft, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how difficult it had become to breathe. “Hades, I—”“But you only laugh at other men's jokes,” he interrupted, his gaze piercing, devoid of any humor. “Not your husband's.” The accusation in his tone was sharp, slicing through the air between us.A nervous chuckle escaped me. “You can't be serious... He’s your beta, for Goddess’ sake.”In an instant, he closed the distance between us, so fast it left me breathless. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against his body, the heat of him making my skin tingle. I gasped, but before I could say a word, his lips crashed onto mine, claiming my mouth with a force that sent shockwaves through me. The kiss was punishing, hungry—I couldn't breathe, couldn't think.When he finally pulled back, I was trembling, my chest heaving as I struggled to regain my breath. His eyes, dark and stormy, searched mine with a possessive intensity. “You can’t laugh at my jokes...” he whispered, his voice a dangerous rasp as his fingers trailed lower, sending a shiver down my spine, “but you’ll come with my fingers.”I shivered, heat pooling low in my belly at his words, his touch. The world around us blurred, fading into nothing as his hand slipped lower, drawing a ragged gasp from my lips. The look in his eyes told me he knew exactly what he was doing to me, and there was no denying the primal connection between us in that moment.“I don’t need your laughter,” he murmured against my skin, his breath hot on my neck. “I’ll have every other part of you instead.”

What does it feel like when you have a best-selling detective fiction author for a boyfriend?

Whenever you offend him, he would look at you disdainfully, “A character molded after you could only ever appear in my novel as a deceased victim.”

Whenever you seriously offend him, he would threaten you, “The very next victim who dies in my novel would be named after you.”

Whenever you seriously, seriously offend him, he would add on to the previous threats, “Furthermore, the victim would have died at the hands of an extremely perverse and twisted serial killer, and would have suffered an extremely painful and terrible death.”

But, by a stroke of coincidence, if you happen to be this best-selling author’s editor, he need not resort to the above mentioned tactics. In fact, all he has to do is one, single thing –
-Delay the submission of his draft.

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