Stand-in Exit, Tycoon Boss Anxious Crazy - Chapter 20 – Are your wings hardened?

Finally caught up with the trend of crossing. Wait, everyone else has a golden finger when they cross, how can I become a little beggar after crossing!

Fortunately, the memory is still there, watching how I transformed from a little beggar to a top rich man!

- Description from novelbuddy

New novel “Tremble, Universe's Great Beings” is currently being serialized~Overnight, a beautiful culinary goddess turned into the despised Little Disaster StarA rundown house with three rooms, a disabled father, a weak mother, and two skinny younger sisters to take care ofWhat?!Her mother gave birth to three daughters just because she was hard on her brothers' lives? Her father fell off the roof and has been bedridden for half a year, just because she was playing with mud nearby?She calls her grandparents once, and instantly one falls ill and the other has an accident; even the beloved sons of her Uncle's family choke on their food because that day happens to be her birthdayHumph! Uncle might tolerate it, but Aunt cannot! If I don't show my power, will they all treat me like Garfield the cat?!They think for five taels of silver, they can sell me to a sick weakling for good luck? Fine, since I'm the Little Disaster Star, let's turn your house into a disaster zone!They want to sell her sister into a wealthy household to become a slave or maidservant? She shouts, grabs a cleaver, fights the demons she meets, and slays the ghosts she encounters. From then onwards, her reputation as a wild shrew spreads throughout the villageSo be it if I'm wild. For the sake of loved ones, I gladly become the wild Kitchen Lady. With my superb cooking skills, I open a restaurant, become a top chef, develop new recipes, capture the hearts of food lovers, and even come up with new ways to make a big fortune, leading my whole family to wealth and a better standard of living!As for those shameless relatives licking their faces and coming back to recognize kinship, she gives a sweet smile, waves them farewell: Have a good trip. The disownment paper is already framed and hanging on the wall!As for men, well, even my little sister knows: Being handsome can't fill your stomach. A man who earns money, spoils his wife, and follows the three obediences and four virtues is a top-quality brother-in-law.Serious statement: This article is purely fictional. Please do not imitate any plots, behaviors, actions, etc. Cherish your life and live well~

Ron finds himself reborn in the world of One Piece, stranded on a remote island in the East Blue. But he's not just any ordinary child—he’s bonded to a mysterious sign-in system that grants him powers with every new location he visits.At his first sign-in, he unlocks the legendary Sun Breathing Technique, along with a boost to his vitality. From Shitmotsuki Village to Skypiea, Enies Lobby to Marineford, Ron travels the world, collecting extraordinary rewards that make him a force to be reckoned with. The Raikiri, one of the 21 Great Grade Swords, Armament Haki, Observation Haki, and more fall into his hands.As Ron steps onto the battlefield of Marineford during the legendary Summit War, the mightiest warriors—Four Emperors and Marine Admirals alike—pause, stunned by his presence. But Ron merely waves them off, “Don’t mind me. I’m just passing through.”Join Ron on his journey across the Grand Line as he signs in at iconic locations, growing stronger with every step. This is not just an adventure—it’s a legend in the making.

“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.