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... e weight of the conflict rested on the shoulders of those chosen to carry out the first strike.

Metto, Caurus, Venzo, and Remu stood atop a desolate, rocky mountain that overlooked the Hell Army’s sprawling encampment.

Though they were physically present, they were simultaneously shielded from detection, thanks to Metto’s ability. His power connected their senses to the battlefield without revealing their true location, keeping them hidden from the three Devil Generals who were p ...

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I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.

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He Yu suffers from Omega pheromone disorder.
Not only does his pheromone not attract Alphas, but it also annoys Alphas who smell it.
Life is already so difficult, but He Yu can be even more difficult.
After confessing his love to a game friend who has been with him for a year and telling him about his illness.
The opponent retreated…
One day, He Yu picked up the leader of their Tongyan No. 1 Middle School, an Alpha with super S-level pheromone——Chu Yi (chu three times, yi four times) at the door of their house.
Chu Yi was covered in blood, he should have just experienced a fierce battle, when the S-level pheromone pressed over like crazy, He Yu’s legs softened and he kowtowed first…
He Yuruan took Chu Yi home softly and gave a little of his pheromone.
Chu Yi really woke up after smelling it. Not only was he awake, but he also vomited.
He Yu hurriedly bowed ninety degrees to apologize: “I’m sorry!”
Chu Yi: “…” He was allergic to alcohol and vomited, why did this man apologize.
The two accidentally discovered that the fit rate was as high as 98%, and Chu Yi, who was about to be forced into a marriage by his family, offered him an attractive offer – “Play my boyfriend, 20,000 yuan a month”.
He Yu decisively bowed his head to money.
So far, He Yu has been transparent since he was a child, and has turned into the boyfriend of Chu Yi, a low-level character in the middle school! Show affection in various places every day!
One day, He Yu accidentally saw Chu Yi’s game id, which was exactly the same as Tui You’s crush!
He Yu was terrified: “Brother, let’s play something else!”
Chu Yi said casually, “No, just play with this.”
As he spoke, he opened He Yu’s account.
The two fell silent together.
the
Focus on:
1. Sand sculptures, pretending to be counselors, and a group of academic bullies attacked by X campus bosses, rich and coquettish
[Actually, it is a love story between “a little dog pretending to be cowardly” and “a cowardly old dog”]
2. The protagonist is an adult.
3. The receiving pheromone is watermelon, and the attacking pheromone is abstract ice. Iced Watermelon Mix!
4. The author of the sand sculpture bib: Kongwubingbing

Content tags: fantasy space sweet text growth campus
Search keywords: Protagonist: He Yu, Chu Yi (three tones of chu, four tones of yi) ┃ Supporting roles: Xin Tao, Yuan Li, Li Jinhang, Cheng Haoyan ┃ Others: He Yu, Chu Yi, Iced Watermelon
One-sentence introduction: Acting and acting, you are really my boyfriend
Idea: Don’t be afraid of any difficulties we encounter! Beat them all with a smile!

- Description from novelbuddy

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.