Substitute Bride Phoenix, The Tyrant's Pampered Demon Empress - Chapter 515: Overheard Everything

Jeong Jiheon was once a promising swimmer, but retired early due to an injury and is now working diligently at a sports agency. Currently, the greatest interest in the sports market is none other than Kwon Jaekyoung, and numerous agencies are fighting fiercely behind the scenes to scout him.In the meantime, Jiheon is ordered by his boss to somehow arrange a meeting with Jaekyoung, and he miraculously succeeds thanks to their insignificant and brief relationship of going to the same swimming center 10 years ago.However, when they agree to meet for the first time in a long while, Kwon Jaekyoung is not interested in the terms of the contract. He just suddenly asks about Jiheon’s traits….

Swing the sword 100 times, [Sword Intent lv1]

Swing the sword 1000 times, [Sword Intent lv3]

Swing the sword 10,000 times, [Sword Intent LV10]

Swing the sword 1,000,000 times, [Sword Intent lv99]

Su Yang traveled through time, into the body of ordinary people.

Fortunately, swinging a sword can improve sword intent.

After continuous improvement, Su Yang found that there was something wrong with this sword intent.

[Wild Supreme Sword Body]

[Handcrafted Sword Spirit Root]

[Solve communication difficulties, rub the sword net with your hands, and start ancient surfing]

The strength increased too fast and was targeted by the lv30 boss?

Su Yang looked at the lv99+ above his head, the old monster should lie down in the coffin.

Enemies from the sky, immortals destroy the world?

Then I, an ordinary person like me, will make a move.

One sword transforms all kinds of methods, and I will rub whatever is lacking.

[ps: Invincible flow, cool text, cool all the way, no aggrieved, no suppression, no brainless pretending to slap your face]

- Description from novelbuddy

When she stands, she’s like a white peony. When she sits, she’s like a tree peony. When she walks, she’s like a lily flower. And when you look her in the eyes, she’s like the Great King of Terror.

Despite having the qualities to be a peerless bishoujo, because of the look of her eyes and that atmosphere of hers, she’s feared by others; such a girl is forcefully sent to another world.

Being told that she would be granted a wish as a special favour, the girl made a wish────

“Make my eyes and atmosphere normal please.”

This is a story recounting the lifestyle in a parallel world of a girl who would be perfect (probably) if just her one weakpoint was overcome.

A fantasy comedy with magic, dungeons, and a hero and demon king(candidate) who she gets tangled up with.

“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.