One Piece: I'm Destined to Be the Son-in-Law King! - Chapter 219: The Hopeful Voice Echoing Through the World

The most unlike Slytherin.

There is a saying in the Slytherin common room, “The little wizard who disobeys will be eaten by the Night Stalker.”

He is the master of the stars that shines at Hogwarts, the Night Stalker who is feared by his enemies.

The glory made him the pride of Slytherin.

When the Dark Lord arrived, he said those words,

“Weapons, I need a lot of weapons.”

With a staff in his left hand and a sword in his right hand, everyone would shout for him: “Damn the Sorting Hat, is this Slytherin?”

When the stars return to Hogwarts, John Wick’s light will shine on the entire wizarding world.

- Description from novelbuddy

The Interstellar Fleet from the game appeared before the ordinary youth, Bai Zhongqi, and the player became the Chancellor of the Empire, opening a new chapter for his brethren and Earth as they set out for the vast sea of stars. The nations of Earth were engaged in cunning and fierce competition for the future of the Intergalactic Era. Bizarre and varied alien civilizations were waiting for Earth’s explorers to discover them. It was a cruel, dark jungle where only the fittest survived, and a world filled with opportunities and magnificent adventures. But for Bai Zhongqi, this was simply a laid-back story about leading Earth’s friends, furiously climbing the tech tree, beating up aliens, and dominating the Galaxy.

On the haunted mountain in the kingdom, they say there lived a witch.

She was born a princess. But even before her birth, the priest declared her to be cursed and demanded her death. They poisoned the mother to kill the baby before she gave birth, but the baby was born out of the dead mother—a cursed child.

Again and again, they tried to kill the baby but she miraculously survived every single attempt. Giving up, they abandoned her on the haunted mountain to die but she still survived on that barren land— A witch

‘Why won’t she die?’

Years later, the people finally had enough of the witch and decided to burn the mountain. But someone arrived to her rescue and took her with him from that burning place, because dying was not her destiny even then.

Draven Amaris.

The Black Dragon, who ruled over supernatural beings, the Devil who no one wished to cross a path with. He hated humans but this certain human girl would pull him towards her whenever she was in danger.

‘Is she really a human?’

The devil named this mysteriously tenacious girl “Ember”, a piece of glowing coal in a dying fire.

This is a tale of the man who brings death and the girl who denies it.

“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.