Star Gate - Chapter 1242: Battle of the Heavenly Will (III)

“I turned into a young dragon and was captured and raised by an Evil Dragon. As we spent more time together, I noticed that the way the Evil Dragon looked at me started to become increasingly odd. It seemed... he was raising me as if I were his wife!” Princess Lucia, transformed into a young dragon, wrote down her discovery with trembling hands in her notebook.

Ye Family goes bankrupt, and her fiancé's family watches coldly.Ye Li signs a contract and marries her fiancé's uncle in a flash marriage.After marriage, Ye Li is determined to repay the debt of one hundred million with interest, hoping to give Fu Yanci freedom so he can be with his true love.When it reaches 5 million, Fu Yanci gets upset.At 50 million, Fu Yanci leaves home for three days.When finally paying off the full one hundred million, Ye Li is cornered by the man: 'Divorce, huh? Sure!!! The family property is yours, and so am I! I'll follow you everywhere!'Ye Li: ......

Civilizations change and the era restarts.

The world returned to the age of steel and steam is full of chaos, madness, twist and evil.

Among them, a group of sorcerers called truth followers have done all their bad things.

They sacrificed to evil gods, besieged the Pope, assassinated the emperor, and even provoked the First World War…

All of this had nothing to do with the transmigrator Melon. When the world was in turmoil, he was the one who squatted aside and watched the show.

Until one day, this group of people came to him and insisted on recognizing him as the leader, and also said that he was the son of destiny. Everything they did before was because they followed his instructions…

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.