Wizard: I Can Refine Everything - Chapter 10 - Magic Stone and Magic Tools

21st century superstar Jian Nai’s friend encountered a scumbag who cheated money from people. As soon as the other party walked away, his friend became the laughing stock of the entire entertainment circle overnight!

Jian Nai immediately decided to take revenge on behalf of his friend, preparing to make the scumbag pay the price for playing with other’s feelings and then dump him!

Jian Nai : “Baby, I just got off work, and you?”

The other party : “Just finished the battle with the invading army.”

Jian Nai : “Honey, I will cook for you in the kitchen. What do you like to eat?”

The other party : “Nutrition solution.”

“… …”

Getting along for a while, he finally dumped the other party and said he was just playing around. After saying the harsh words, he realised– it’s over, he copied the wrong ID!

Not only did he add the wrong person, the other party was not even a person from Earth at all!

- Description from Novelupdates

On the will left behind by the 14 year old suicide victim K:

“Taku Sugawara is the devil. Nobody should believe his words.”

For decades, the brave warriors of the Northern Army fought to keep the world safe from the evil Silent Night. But when the fourth-generation leader, Jin Kwan-Ho is accused of colluding with the enemy, he is forced to disband the sect and commit suicide to protect his son, Jin Mu-Won. With no family and allies left, Mu-Won leads a dreary life under close surveillance… until a surprise attack from the Silent Night gives him a chance to escape to the mountains.

There, the young warrior trains to master the fighting techniques of his predecessors, before the mysterious disappearance of a loved one brings him back to the mainland. Follow Jin Mu-Won as he embarks on a journey to avenge his father’s death and take down the villains who threaten to plunge the world into darkness!

“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.