Legend of Dragon Son-in-law - Chapter 522 - : 522

Zhou Rui had just turned 20 when his life took an unexpected turn. He was hit by a truck one day. Just as he was convinced he was about to die, something strange happened. Instead of waking up in the afterlife, he opened his eyes as a baby. Later, he learn he had reborn as Lumien Ofnir, the youngest son of a baron.As Lumien grew up, he realized this world was nothing like Earth. Magic was real, and creatures like goblins, orcs, dragons, titans, and other mythical creatures were part of everyday life.Fortunately, in this dangerous world, Lumien received another blessing. It was a system.Follow Lumien's journey as he begins to explore this new world with the support of a Harem System. The mysterious cheat that allows him to copy and develop the magical powers of any woman he has slept with.[Author’s Note: The earlier chapters might feel slow and boring, but I promise it’ll all be worth it once the pace picks up.]

Li Tianyan accidentally found himself in the Hengwu Continent as a Concubine’s son from a family of warriors. Not only did he lose all his cultivation, but he also became a waste bastard with five spiritual roots. Since the accident, Li Tianyan had an aunt and uncle who were eyeing him, and brothers who wanted him to fail. There was an ugly wife in the house who was married back.

Xingyi Fist Grandmaster Xiao Yi's soul transmigrated to another world.In this world dominated by Martial Artists, Xiao Yi obtained a Martial Soul that defied the Heavens, embarking on a journey to crush countless contemporary talents and achieve the status of Soul Emperor and Martial God.Shattering Heaven and Earth, breaking through the vault of heaven, he reigned supreme over All Heavens and Myriads of Worlds.

“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.