Daddy! Come Home for Dinner! - Chapter 1159

Synopsis: I have joined a harem warrior's party in search of magical ingredients. But why does the warrior keep talking to me? ______________________ Reiew: The protagonist, who goes by the name Louis, joins a hero's party to gather magical ingredients. The party, made up of heroes who admire the main hero, initially sees Louis as a competitor. However, Louis has no interest in becoming a heroine or pursuing a romantic relationship with the hero. Instead, Louis plans to support the heroes and ensure they stay together, but finds herself constantly misunderstood as a rival. Louis’s quirky and endearing traits lead to humorous interactions with the hero's party as she tries to prove she’s not interested in romance​.

I’ve unexpectedly embarked on a semi-coercive acting life.

…But it turns out, I’m quite good at it.

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In the Year 30XX… Humans have long been discovering the wonders of the universe and exploring the great galaxies beyond the milky way.

They are not alone.

The universe is primal and untamed with civilisations pitted against one another in battles to decided life and death.

Mankind is one of the weakest races but have discovered cultivation techniques that morph their bodies and grant them unimaginable power.

Sui Meng was just an ordinary girl who woke up in the body of sixteen year old Sophie Peterlor.

Sophie is the half human hybrid of a prestigious duke house but faces discrimination based on her racial heritage and apparent lack of cultivation talent.

This changes when Sophie discovers a cultivation manual hidden in the necklace given by her late mother.

'Spider Whisper Art'

Sometimes power comes with a price…

“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.