The Young master's fake bride and her lucky system - Chapter 471: Too much sweetness.

[Relaxed, humorous, semi-daily]

Ye Tianyi traversed the body of a scumbag, and at the same time opened an infinite system. The infinite system randomly opened a different new system every time and received a heavenly reward.

“Ding…Congratulations to the host for opening the [Oshen System].”

“Ding…Congratulations to the host for opening the [Slacker System].”

“Ding…Congratulations to the host for turning on the [Prediction System].”

“Ding…Congratulations to the host for opening the [Goddess Search System].”

“Ding……”

“…”

A life of an evildoer, a legendary story, does not shock the world with force, but seeks to stir the world.

Ye Tianyi: “I used to be a good person until…”

(A book that can read all the systems…a book that allows you to learn how to speak…)

- Description from MTL

One night she gets drunk and mistakes the most well-known Mafia boss for a host and intends to sleep with him.

Oh my! What should I do? It’s best to run away!

- Description from Novelupdates

Hakuto's life changes forever when his father Shin— a man with highly questionable morals—marries Kagura Kurotsuki, the CEO of a multinational company, and they move into her luxurious mansion.There, he meets the alluring daughters of his new stepmother: the seductive Yuzu—who doesn't hesitate to tease both her new stepbrother and her stepfather in ways that are... rather bold—and Rika, more introverted and irritable, yet just as sensual.But nothing is truly as it seems...Kagura is a succubus, but Rika and Yuzu are different.They were born from a demon and a vampire—something that shouldn’t be exsiste.Because of that, demons, vampires, even humans want them.But Hakuto won’t allow it.He’ll never let anyone hurt his beloved stepsisters.

“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.