PREVIEW

... ascent, foundation-less church demonstrated extraordinary vitality in the unique realm of the capital's shadow thanks to its inclusiveness.

Its embrace of the marginalized brought together non-human races shunned by humans. These individuals, who built and shaped the church's territory together, experienced a unique sense of fulfillment and belonging.

That feeling—think about it this way. Imagine that you've purchased your first home on Earth. Using your hard-earned money, you sl ...

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After suffering from a heat stroke while working under the scorching heat of summer, Lu Zhou, a hardworking but poor university student, somehow becomes the owner of an advanced technological system. With the cheat given by the system, his university life changes overnight.

A Master’s degree? Easy.

PhD? Not a problem.

From a nobody, he quickly becomes a huge celebrity in the world of science. With the missions given by the system, he is on his way to winning a Nobel Prize.

“System, can points be exchanged for money?”

“No.”

“F**k, what use are you then!?”

“This system will make you the ultimate scholar, the kind that lords over all of humanity. What use will money be to you?”

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Freshman student Yang Dingtian possesses the Nine Yang Body, found only 1 in million. His Yang Fire is incomparably vigorous and thus, he cannot be near a female’s charms for his entire life. On the night of his 19th birthday, he decided to bid farewell to his virgin life. After stealing and tasting the forbidden fruit, he spontaneously combusted as the result!

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“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.

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With a pair of dextrous hands, she stroked and examined those clickety white bones to solve old and dusty unresolved cases.

He was a handsome cold prince. Just to see the beauty smile, he would not hesitate to throw away his moral principles and repeatedly flirt with her.

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“Then, this prince will give you 10,000 taels for a kiss!”