I Got Rich in Period Fiction - Chapter 298: The Ingrate

My Beautiful Teacher tells the story of a university graduate Qin Chao who can’t seem to find a job and is in a downward spiral in his life. Then one night as he walks home from another failed job interview, a vase hits his head, making him get possessed by an old and powerful evil spirit sealed in that vase and following another incidents, inadvertently saved a mysterious university teacher Su Ji, thereby opening his path to cultivation, he also manages to get a job as a security guard at Guangyuan School. A series of adventures then took place as he deals with all kinds of supernatural beings.

- Description from Novelupdates

The unparalleled Pill Emperor is reborn into another life, practicing unique cultivation techniques and refining pills that others cannot. Occasionally, he would offer advice to those so-called masters of pill dao, while casually recruiting a few talented disciples to follow him.“Want a cultivation technique? No problem!”“Need a pill? No problem!”“The real question is, have you hung out with me?”In this life, Mo Wangchen is destined to reach the pinnacle once more, to dominate with his pills and reverse the heavens with his martial prowess!

Front page is “XOULSEY LAREN LINDBURY - THE MONOCHROMATIC BEAUTY”.Next in line are, CITRONELLA, THE RECEPCIONIST, THE NOT SO OLD HAG and QUEEN MIREYA, (THE BLONDE YOUNG MAN and THE ALBINE are ready along with, VERIZON, (Comment if you want to see any specific CHARACTER or CONTRACTED PARTNER in the corresponding section, and cheer for your favorite!).(I am working on the Æzh'Xinder and the other Creatures)After having his Military Service extended from four to more than twenty two years due to an administrative error, “Drïekvïer”, Better known as “Trektör” or “The Worst Nightmare Of The Farioth”, is abruptly forced to stop his deployment, all because the change of a law in the Nation he choose to live in, “The Kcrwlmndth Federation”.Said law forbid anyone under 78 years of age to be in active militar duty; Him being almost 45 years old and considered a Veteran doesn't help him in the slightest to make an exception.With this unexpected development, he decide to try something new and impulsive by taking the “Talent” test of the neighboring country in order to obtain a “Profession”and qualify for one of the most prestigious Academies in the gigantic planet of “Clarattoia”.To achieve this, is mandatory to have a score of “7”, of a maximum of 22.5, after all, with out a Profession is impossible to access “Protocol” and nurture the hidden beast inside all of us; However, life always send us challenges when we are less prepared for them.

“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.