Switched Marriage: The Coddled Little Wife - Chapter 207: Apprentice

On December 11th, the apocalypse began. A new, mutated coronavirus—the Zeta variant—spread worldwide, and it was far more deadly than any version before it. Those infected without strong immune systems turned into zombies, and within two days, chaos reigned, wiping out 80% of humanity.Zack, an ordinary guy, found himself in the middle of this nightmare, struggling to survive. Lacking the skills to fight off the zombies, he was soon overwhelmed and met a tragic end… or so he thought.When Zack suddenly finds himself alive again, he’s back at the start of the apocalypse but with one huge difference—an advanced AI has armed him with powerful technology. Equipped with a zero-point reactor, power armor, a super serum, and much more, he now has the tools to turn the tide.Follow Zack as he builds a new civilization from the ruins and fights to reclaim the world in this thrilling journey of survival and innovation.

The youthful Qin Ye was born almost a century ago, but thanks to immortality granted to him by the ‘fungus of aeons’ he can pass for a high schooler.

After transmigration, Lin Yue could hear a voice whispering in his ear every day, sharing all sorts of secrets with him.Small matters like the thoughts of the girl next door, to great mysteries like the secrets of the heavens, the voice persisted daily, broadcasting randomly.He originally wanted to live an unremarkable life, but in this world of Xianxia dynasties where mortals are considered as insignificant as weeds, the fate of an ordinary man without power is no longer in his own hands.Thus, he had no choice but to stop being 'just a person'.'Your Majesty the Empress, you wouldn't want your secret of treason to be revealed by others, right?'

“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.