MTL - Doraemon: My Nobita! Join Chat Group - Chapter 175

Murong Jiu, the Ninth Young Miss of the Marquis Mansion, was ugly and talentless, and her fate was to harm her relatives. She was raised in the countryside from a young age. Due to her exceptional medical skills, she was used by the Crown Prince, who drained her of all her value and then threw her into a deep well to drown.Only before her death did she realize she had been switched at birth. Others were rightfully enjoying everything that should have been hers; later, all her family died for her, becoming stepping stones for the Crown Prince!Reincarnated, she returned like a vengeful ghost from hell, making her enemies tremble with fear, ready to seek revenge for each grievance.Unexpectedly, she unintentionally became the darling of her biological family, which made her retract her sharp edges.As the substitute Princess Consort of Prince Ling, she and Prince Ling were a fake couple, intent only on finding the real father of the child in her womb, yet unaware that the man from that night was right in front of her…

[Hottest Blood-Boiling Thriller]The Divine Level Expert from the apocalypse is reborn in the city. He intended to live a low-key, restrained life, but women broke off engagements with him, his family abandoned him, and everyone looked down on him…“I was low-key, but you forced me to be arrogant. Since it's come to this, then let Heaven be in awe, let the earth tremble, let the whole world go crazy because of me!” —Ye Tianchen.

Argon Raze, the best swordsman of the continent. He was dubbed the Sword Saint due to his unparalleled skills with the sword. He lived a life of endless victories in duels and challenges. However, all that came to an end when he challenged a young mage. He lost his winning streak and his life at the hands of this young mage.Seemingly ready to accept his death, he found himself inside an unknown forest after being swallowed by an immense light. He was still alive, he realized. Although, he also realized he wasn't the same Argon Raze as before.Feel free to support me on Paypal or Patreon with five or more chapters ahead.

“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.