My Wife is a Goddess: 99 Secret Kisses - Chapter 178 DRAMA & WEDDING PART 8

Divine techniques? Heaven’s gifts? Divine Weapon? Special Abilities? Unique Skills? Heavenly Talents?No, I don’t need them because I can create Heavenly Laws!In the boundless expanse of the starry seas, Lin Yuan wielded the extraordinary ‘Gate to the Myriad Realms’, he can transmigrate his consciousness in various world and comprehend any path!Embarking on countless odysseys, Lin Yuan’s relentless quest for strength knew no bounds. Through the cosmic tapestry of diverse worlds, he quietly forged his path, ascending from the depths of mediocrity to an unparalleled force.With each journey, he honed his skills until, at last, he stood as an invincible presence, dominating across all realms. The saga of Lin Yuan is a mesmerizing tale of cosmic ascent and relentless growth.

She comes from the top of Zhongshan Mountain, she is covered with frost and snow, she is unparalleled in beauty, but she has no talent for “love”, and she likes nothing more than a cup of tea in her life, watching the excitement.

It is said that she was young and ill-fated, with a weird personality, but in fact, she can also be obedient and docile, with a smile like a flower.

It is said that she has a mean tongue, arrogant and rude, but in fact, she can also smile sweetly and be gentle and amiable.

but–

She… is… is… no, happy, willing!

Until that day, she met a boy.

Half of the city is full of wind and moon and half of the city is snow. All the scenery in her life are brilliant because of him.

…

- Description from novelbuddy

I regret having lived as a villain.

So when I got a second chance after regressing, I tried to live a good life…

But then a villain became obsessed with me.

……………………………………………………………

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“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.