My Disciples Are All Villains - Chapter 1810 - Suppressing the Power of the Earth (1)

Name: ParadoxSpecies: Snake, ?Description: A tiny snake with great potential.That was who I was. That was what I was. A tiny snake with great potential. The sole creation of the Great Core.It was just us, the Great Core and I, tucked away in our little corner of the World Dungeon. Together, we hid from the bad-things and the Coreless of the world outside - safe from the horrors that would consume us.Until, one day, the Coreless found us. Until they tried to steal away my creator. Until, with no other option, I swallowed the Great Core that had made me.Only after that did I become what I was always meant to be.At last, I became the Great Core's Paradox in more than name.[The Endless Cycle] began.Thus begins the story of a little snake zealot and his journey to greatness.

Fourteen years old Su Bei almost died when she had a high fever, got transmigrated into another world and finally knew a shocking truth–it turned out that the world she was originally in was just a novel and her whole family were villains.

The woman who gave birth to them was the cannon fodder in the novel. She and Su Xiaobao were written like this in the extra chapter. One was a little bastard who tried to bully the male lead’s daughter and eventually got thrown into prison and the other one became an escort, who after having failed to seduce the male lead, was killed by an evil director. They also have a dad whom they never met and was the biggest villain in the book.

Back to her original world, the first thing Su Bei did was to take Su Xiaobao and find their father.

Su Bei: Su Xiaobao, quick, call him.

Su Xiaobao: Call him what?

Su Bei: Call dad.

Su Xiaobao: I don’t want to, do it yourself.

Su Bei: Dad!

Looking at these two dirty children in front of him, Mr. Qin’s eyes showed disgust.

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.