I Become a Martial Arts God in the Chaotic Demon World - Chapter 358 Jade Pendant

Ruan Jiu Jiu transmigrated into a rebirth novel, in which the female lead in her past life had an unattainable love, a white moonlight. In the novel, the white moonlight Cheng Jun was a hollow character with a pretty face but zero accomplishments, and with his cold personality was like a frigid beauty; an empty flower vase. Meanwhile, Ruan Jiu Jiu transmigrated into Cheng Jun’s ex-wife, an evil, stuck-up, female side character.

When Ruan Jiu Jiu transmigrated over, a divorce agreement was placed on the table. Cheng Jun, wet from the rain, ate a bowl of unhealthy instant noodles. Seeing that beautiful, emotionless face, Ruan Jiu Jiu suddenly couldn’t take it anymore and said that she’d wait until tomorrow to reconsider the divorce.

Later.

Ruan Jiu Jiu: Who said that he’s an idiot? Who said that he’s frigid? You’re trolling (╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻

Actually, this is a relaxed, funny, brain dead, sweet little novel.

Able to be coaxed but can’t be forced female lead X A weak, helpless, intimidating but oblivious Big Boss.

*Has some stuff about video games, if you don’t like that then skip this

1. 100% fluff

2. Expands on a completed quick transmigration novel ~The beginning matches up a bit with that universe~

3. This novel’s ML is a bit weird because he doesn’t have a sense of self-preservation →_→

Lynn embarks on a fantastical journey to a realm reminiscent of medieval Europe, yet infused with extraordinary magical abilities. Here, the very fabric of reality is governed by the enigmatic theory of magic, which harnesses and manipulates fundamental particles.

In this world, wizards, who are essentially scientific spell casters, find themselves locked in a relentless battle against the oppressive Church.

However, when Lynn arrives, a harbinger of an otherworldly Renaissance, the tides of change are set in motion, unveiling a thrilling tale of discovery, intrigue, and the struggle for enlightenment.

“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.