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... waves often cresting at more than ten meters high, far beyond what one could imagine near the shore.

There are no mountains on the sea, once air currents change and create the winds.

That would mean a gale sweeping wildly, with at least a force of ten.

The waves were layered upon each other, howling as they approached.

From a distance, it looked like a giant mountain was crashing towards them.

Under such surging waves, even a hundred-meter freight ship fou ...

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A Failed score in the National Examinations was enough to make many youths desolate.Such a score should be the end of any Protagonist.With Parents who didn't love him, and a brother who was hellbent on using him as a stepping Stone, Levon's life was already colorful. Many waited for his Fall.However, there was a saying, that for a few, failure wasn't the end—but the beginning of something darker.“Mr. And Mrs. Belmont, My academy is interested in your son. Don't worry, we have just the place for him.”“Alright. Please, take the troublemaker away!”Levon watched in eerie calm, putting up no resistance.Soon, he thrust into a world completely unfamiliar to him. There was danger, chaos, and the promise of death looming in each corner.“Blood ACADEMY...”It was an odd place… an odd but interesting one.

My SuperVillain System: Building Legion of SSS-Ranked SuperHeroinesChapter 34 - Ytrisia’s Suspicion
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“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.

MTL - Young Master Quan, How Have You Been?Chapter 283 Finale: Maybe this is happiness
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He is the renowned playboy that terrifies the world, and countless people’s supreme king.

A night was turned upside down as she recklessly pushed him down on the bed, her face clear and cold: Remember, you’re bottom, I’m top!

“Offending me, aren’t you afraid I’ll kill you?”

“Not afraid. You wouldn’t. ”

Little by little pressing his bottom line, time by time declaring her sovereignty.

Shen Shenxue’s principle is: Even if the entire world spoiled him, she absolutely had to domesticate him into a loyal dog.

Quan Shi: There’s people who love your beautiful and alluring image, there’s people who love your rich spirit, and only I hate your never conceding stubbornness and your endless passionate, deep love.

TL Note: The title’s a play on words, and the words ‘how have you been?’ is meant to be said with a malicious intent behind it (alternate title translation would be, ‘Hope You’ve Been Unwell’ for the latter portion)

- Description from Novelupdates

I Refuse to Become Scumbag in TokyoChapter 774: Irreplaceable (END)
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Shishio stared at the beautiful girl in front of him, and he couldn’t look away. Her waist might be the narrowest waist that he had ever seen, and he was wondering how it felt to hug that waist. Finally, he made up his mind and decided to say hello to her, but suddenly…

[Target has been found!]

«Huh?»

[Welcome to Scumbag System!]

[The more woman you have, the more rewards you will receive!]

[As a starting gift, you have received «Japanese Food Cooking Mastery»!]

[As the first target has been found, you also receive 500 million yen on your back account!]

[The journey has only been started!]

[Work hard, young man!]

«???????»

Shishio frowned and said, «I refuse!» without hesitation, but after a while…

«I refuse!.. I really refuse!.. I really try hard to refuse!.. Sorry, I can’t refuse it…»

Shishio tried really hard, but he couldn’t…

***

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.