MTL - The Dark King - v8 Chapter 1195 :seed

Amidst a disaster, an orphan contracts a sickness.

In his waking hours, he is tormented by his ailment, but when he slumbers, there is infinite darkness.

One day, when he was five years old, a strange Fate Trickster appeared in his dreams. Ten years later, he dreams of becoming a lord. To do so, he takes a chance to trade his fate!

That day, Wang Zhong once again stood at the gates of the Tianjing Heroic Soul Academy. He was about to start a brand new life.

- Description from Novelupdates

【Interstellar Marriage】【Strong Men and Strong Women】【Su Shuang Hot Blood】

Lin Fu’s biggest regret is that she was born in a military and police family, but due to physical reasons, she can only sing and dance in the art troupe, and be a qualified vase.

Accidentally traveling to the interstellar era three thousand years later, she was pleasantly surprised to find that she possessed rare S-level spiritual power, and was born to be a fleet commander.

She wants to go to the military academy, enter the Marine War Academy, command the space fleet, and become a heroic female general.

However, her new identity is just the daughter of a farmer in a remote galaxy. In order to realize her dream, she chose to marry the youngest space fleet commander in the empire.

Your Excellency the Commander is cold and abstinent, with an intimidating aura, yet so handsome that it breaks one’s heart, Lin Fu fell at first glance.

I want to eat, but I want to hide it secretly.

Later, people in the whole interstellar world finally knew that the trash bumpkin who had been scolded all the time was actually the commander of the Third Fleet of the Empire.

She is also the most honorable and lovely Princess Freya ever in the royal family, and she is also a frightening star thief.

The entire universe is boiling.

Your Excellency the handsome and noble Commander is not happy: Where is the promised private possession?

—-

Recommend my chronology: “Crossing into a Son-in-law’s ex-wife”

- Description from novelbuddy

For every God out there, there are about thousand shitty games in this world.

Bugs, Errors, Texture Collapses, Inconsistent Scenarios…… Those are the things that fill the players around the world with grief and remorse.

A certain boy who loves such shitty games decides to challenge a Godly game recognized by the general public for a change.

As a result, both the gaming world and the real world in which the boy is revolving begin to change. Still, the specs of the Godly game still fills the boy’s heart with dread.

「Are Encounter Rates like that really a common sense in Godly Games……?」

“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.