That Person. Later on… - Chapter 141

It was said that Lu Zhi, the richest man in City A, had a wife whose medical skills were so good she could revive the dead!

Lu Zhi said modestly, “It’s not a big deal, but if she claims to be second, no one will dare to say they’re first.”

It was also said that Mrs. Lu was a top-notch hacker whose methods were so ruthless that bad guys frequently begged her to let them off the hook

!Lu Zhi smiled affectionately. “My wife is delicate and fragile. Those villains are just too weak.”

The audience all felt speechless. “You’re making up nonsense. Don’t you feel embarrassed?”

Lu Zhi raised his brows. “Hmm? Does anybody have a problem with that? Please step forward.”

Mrs. Lu was calm and relaxed. “You all like gossiping so much. If you don’t want to keep your tongue, you can donate it to me for research purposes.”

Everyone shivered in fear. “Please forgive us. We won’t do it again.”

Dear readers! Fresh green style, maybe you will like it more in .

I, Daddy, Paladin,

The first under the stars to bring a baby to PK strong!

If you don’t accept it, come to fight!

“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.

Sui Yan was a villain, at least that’s what everyone thought.

Her childhood friend and brother said: “Sui Yan, you’ve changed and become more and more disgusting.”

Her best friend said: “Sui Yan, stay away from me. I don’t want to see you again.”

Her stepsister said: “Sui Yan, I hate you.”

Her two biological brothers said: “Sui Yan, we don’t have a sister like you.”

The one she loved the most said: “Sui Yan, I could never like someone like you.”

Sui Yan died. Even though it should have made everyone happy, it made them so heartbroken they could barely breathe.

In the blink of an eye, everyone mysteriously returned to the year Sui Yan was four years old. From then on…