The Tyrant Father's Pampered Daughter - Chapter 1050: Emperor Ling Is A Bad Person!

Yun is a novice MMO player who equipped only unpopular skills labelled as garbage. However, soon after the official launch of the game, the NPCs stopped selling Recovery Potions. Everyone finally started to notice the importance of Support Magic and Items. And that spells trouble for Yun as well as all the other support-based players. They received orders for recovery potion from endless flood of players en masse, some more aggressive players even go as far as forcing the support players to be their personal craftsman. In order to prevent this from going out of hands, all the support players grouped together to form a community to keep things in order.

Transmigrated into a trash body of general's daughter as female lead? Peh! Too mainstream! Transmigrated to be a villainess? Common! What about transmigrating and ending up as cannon fodder? Have read it before!

The high-level face of the fantasy world is the supreme god, the light and darkness dominate the night seven winds, and an accident occurs when opening up a new world.

A body of Tongtian cultivation base was extracted cleanly by the newly created world, and turned into the source of the new world. The supreme divine body degenerated into the baby state when it was just born. , under the protection of the last trace of the law of light and darkness, he fell to the Douluo Continent. By chance, he was rescued by Juyueguan who was out on a mission, and was carried back to Wuhun City by Saint Bibi Dong… .

Ye Qifeng: Dirty things and dog things, don’t ask me why I am targeting you.

because……

Wuhun Temple, I’ll protect it!

Postscript: Some settings in this article are different from those in the original book, including certain time and plot settings, which are subject to this book.

[General group of this book: 943887424]

[Enter the group to verify: It is our duty to protect our Wuhun Temple (you can enter the second half of the sentence)]

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.