Harem Stealing System - Chapter 33 : Surprise After Surprise

She was the Eldest Legitimate Daughter of the General's Mansion, treacherously harmed and died a miserable death. Perhaps moved by pity, heaven granted her rebirth. She returned to four years earlier, not only possessing heterochromia that allowed her to see what others couldn't but also equipped with a portable space. She vowed to make those who hurt her and her mother pay in this life.He was a Prince with a Different Surname from Moli Country, holding military power and commanding awe in all directions. It was said that he had conquered most of Moli Country, and even The Emperor showed him deference. Legend had it he was a bloodthirsty prince who killed without blinking an eye.One day, she encountered a ragged but handsome man on the street, who chased after her, shouting, “My wife, my wife.”The woman said, “Damn it, who is your wife? Aunt isn’t even engaged yet! Go where it’s cool and stay there.”The man responded, “You are my wife, and I've decided to follow you for life.”“A feel-good story, both leads are strong, a pampering love story with 1v1 romance.”

In the distant future on Earth, there was a girl with God-like powers. That girl is the last survivor of the former human race that flourished in ancient times.

The Ancients.

And on that very same Earth, a new breed of humans with the ability to wield Magic emerged.

That girl began to observe the new human race silently.

Sometimes called a God, other times called Satan, that girl continued to observe the new human race.

This is the story of the happenings between the lonely girl and the hardworking new human race.

Qiao Nian has lived in Qiao’s house for 18 years, and his biological parents came to the door. All of a sudden, all the wealthy people around the city knew that Qiao’s family had a fake daughter!

A true daughter is versatile, gentle and kind.

Fake daughters don’t learn or know how to accomplish nothing.

Everyone wanted to see how miserable she went back to Shangougou after being kicked out of the rich family!

Qiao Nian also thought that his biological parents were from Luohe County, and they were poor teachers.

Who knew that the car that my brother drove was a Phaeton, with 3 million naked cars!

My father teaches at National Tsing Hua University, and the teacher is also called a professor!

The top gangsters of the scum family knelt and licked at her grandpa and nodded and bowed…

Qiao Nian:?

enmm…This is not the same as saying yes!

Freed from a group of scumbags, Qiao Nian she became herself.

The college entrance examination champion, the live broadcaster, the heir of intangible cultural heritage…The vests are dropped one by one, and the hot searches around the city are one by one, and the faces of the parents of the scum, the scum, and the scum, are all green.

The black fans are mocking: What is the use of selling people, it’s not just sticking to my brother every day.

Qiao Nian: I’m sorry, I have a partner.

Senior brother: Qiao Nian, let me introduce to you, this is my sister.

Grandpa: Grandpa, what are you doing so hard? What kind of bicycles do you want? Grandpa will buy it for you!

…

The rich and powerful in Beijing are rumoring that Wangye has a wife who is hidden in the golden house. No matter how other people make a fuss, she never wants to bring it out to see people. Don’t ask, the question is the same sentence: “My wife is from the countryside and she is afraid of living.”

Until one day, someone saw the prince who was always noble and cold, pinching a girl’s slender waist, blocking people in the corner of the wall, and muttering with crimson eyes: “Baby, when will you give me a position?”

[Fake daughter, she is a real wealthy] + [Double bosses]

- Description from MTL

“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.