Rebirth: Pampered Wife’s Counterattack - Chapter 84 - Joining Forces To Slander (3)

Betrayed by his former gang and thrown into the Rendhold Underprison, Dantes has spent the last five years scraping by. A whoreson of orcish, human, and elvish blood, he's lived on the periphery of the periphery, lying, cheating, and stealing to survive. After a run of bad luck, he's made a powerful enemy. Luckily, he's also gotten all the tools he needs to turn things around.A slow burn progression fantasy focused on rising through the criminal underworld of a city-state using newfound powers and quick wits.MC's powers will develop slowly, but he will use them in creative ways to get ahead, and in the meantime he's not above just braining someone with a club.Anti-hero/villainous MC with a code.

A tale of an ordinary senior high school student who becomes a legend by dispensing plagues and controlling vicious virus insects.

“Ding! Congratulations! You have received 7 billion red pockets!”

“Ding! Congratulations! You have received 50 million yuan!”

“Ding! Congratulations! You have received a Lamborghini Aventador!”

“Ding! Congratulations! You have received 51% stock of a listed company!”

“Ding! Congratulations! You have received a whole tower worth 5 billion!”

“Ding! Congratulations! You have received the skill, Combat King!”

“Ding! Congratulations! You have received the skill, God’s Singing Voice!”

“7 billion red packets? How long will it even take me to open all of them?” Lin Fan complained.

“Excuse me, how long do you think it will take you to earn a million?” a certain random reporter asked.

Lin Fan was silent.

“Sorry, but, why do you keep blinking?” the reporter asked.

“Didn’t you ask how long it would take?”

“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.