Study Monster Cultivation System - Chapter 397 - 396 Big Chap is a must-watch!

Follow Chen Ming as he accepts disciples, establishes a sect, and fights his way in a world that deems him a cannon fodder.
He goes against any common sense using his wits and novel knowhow to finish missions and arm himself against his cruel fate.

Welcome to the universe of Spectre. Jace comes of age and joins the army like all others his age. In a militaristic society that is normal. But his high level of intelligence and hard work quickly make him invaluable. So invaluable that he becomes a center of conflicts as the galactic empires rise and fall, revolutions occur, and invaders arrive. Join Jace as he goes from an orphan from the slums to becoming Spectre. As he navigates his military life he also navigates passing relationships and long term... 'contracts'.The novel contains depictions of torture, bloodshed, and overall brutality. Sexual content is heavily suggested and will be depicted as well, but it will not be the focus of the novel.The book cover was generated using Adobe's AI art generation system.

When Qiao Moyu awakened, she found herself in a novel world and had become the villainess who was loathed by the President, the story’s male protagonist.

Qiao Moyu, the President’s childhood friend, came to his door whilst holding a baby, but the man said he won’t take any responsibility since the child wasn’t his!

As she stared at her adorable and proud little toddler, Qiao Moyu decided to take this chance to raise her son while having a fresh start in her acting career. As for the other problems, she’ll just take it easy!

However, a few months later ~

President: “You’re not some disgusting mosquito blood, you’re my white moonlight (first love).”

Luo Luo: “Mama, he’s not Baobei’s father. Baobei doesn’t want him.”

A certain Film Emperor: “I want both you and the child.”

Online fans: “Qiao Moyu is ours!”

- Description from novelupdates

“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.