Chaotic Sword God - Chapter 3415: Secret of the Sacred Mountain (3)

Crying blood and tears, she pledged a poisonous vow. The gods did not fail her. She was sent back to a decade ago. The legitimate daughter of Jiang family returned from hell.

Forget it, whatever! Since they already claimed that she was a temptress that wrecked the country, she shall overturn the world into complete chaos starting with her beguiling sister, her malicious stepmother, her cruel lover and her heartless family. Let her end the lives that Yama refused to end.

She was a pawn in her past life. In this life, however, the world was her chess board. With an alluring smile and a charming figure that enchanted the entire nation, the red-clothed woman wrecked chaos among the lands. She was a vengeful spirit from hell, determined to make those who wronged her pay in blood.

“I want those who owe me a life debt to hold their hearts out in front of me. I want those who looked down on me to only be able to admire me. I want Lord Zhong Zi to shiver when he sees me. I want to step on this splendid river and mountains!”

— — —

“You are a temptress and I am a thief.” His robe was as dark as the night and his gaze was as cold as the Northern Star. “A perfect match.”

Her red dress was akin to fire, but her heart was the coldest ice in the winter.

He was stoic in his black robe, yet he was willing to warm her frozen heart.

In this life, the elegant man seemed like a snowy bamboo grove with tall, chilly mountains, walking step by step towards her like an unstoppable force.

“Ruan Ruan, if you hate the world, then I shall conquer the lands with you.”

“What if I love the world?” She asked.

“I am the world, so you can only love me,” he answered.

- Description from Novelupdates

Chen Xu traveled to the parallel world, and was surprised to find that many classic and excellent games in the previous life did not appear in the parallel world.I wanted to make a big picture, but why did I still have an ’emotion collection system’, and the emotions such as happiness, sadness, excitement, fear, anger and other emotions provided by players who have played games made by themselves can make them stronger?But why is it so much easier to get resentment than happiness?Looking at his points harvest, Chen Xu expressed puzzlement.As a result, Chen Xu’s career as a game designer gradually turned crooked.In “Under the Legend”, countless players beat the table and shout: I was played by this game!In “Escape”, countless players shouted, my cabinet moved, and I stopped playing.In “Dark Souls”, when countless players entered the game with a smile, “Go away, please go away, leave the fire girl behind and go out with your fire, we don’t want to spread this fire!”Soap, Xiaoqiang, and Ghost sacrificed in “Call of Duty”; Zack was killed and Alice was killed in “Final Fantasy 7”; Arthur and John were betrayed in “Red Dead Redemption”;Countless players went berserk: Nima Chen Xu old thief, can’t we be kinder to the protagonist?Q: How do I feel about players’ anger towards themselves?Facing the reporter’s question, Chen Xu smiled slightly: What kind of verbal criticism is this, this is the encouragement of players around the world to me, this is love! Thank you all, I will keep up the good work!

In the celestial empire, during the ninth year of the Mandate of Heaven,Chaos reigns across the land, and the people suffer.The royal governance collapses, and western barbarians with their pantheon of gods invade.New warlords arise, claiming territories; the Taiping rebels wreak havoc, leading to widespread misery.Calamities like floods, droughts, earthquakes, sandstorms, tornadoes, acid rain, blood moons, and meteor falls occur in succession.Countless demons roam, strange beings thrive, spirits mingle with the inexplicable, and mysterious phenomena arise.In these dark and tumultuous times, Tao Qian opens his eyes to find himself about to be beheaded at the vegetable market...

“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.