Gifted Bride of the Sinned Prince - Chapter 11

[2022 Science Fiction Starlight Award Word-of-mouth Good Book]

[Third Prize of 2022 Science Fiction Essay]

When a photo of the North Pole taken by a satellite was sent back to various countries, people on earth were shocked by the content of the photo.

They saw thousands of wolves in the North Pole, including hundreds of polar bears and arctic silver foxes, all bowing their heads in unison.

On the top of the snow-capped mountain, a giant arctic wolf whose size exceeds everyone’s imagination is overlooking the arctic ice sheet.

- Description from novelbuddy

[Mature Content]Khalifa Fei, a famed water mage, suddenly woke up into a stupidly enjoyable book about the undead.Although she transmigrated into a cannon fodder who didn't even have a name in the book... she really didn't mind.After all, how could she possibly miss watching the book she liked in the flesh??What she didn't expect was that there would be so many... distractions along the way.Would she even be able to prepare properly with all these men pulling her to bed?

The Crown Prince of the Capital brought a woman back home, hiding her from sight and pampering her to the skies. Rumor has it she's just a bumpkin from the countryside, pretty but utterly useless.Capital city buzzes: Just a vase rising through beauty alone.When the college entrance examination results are released, why is the name of the national top scorer that very 'vase'?At the gathering for the Association of Painters' new apprentices, why is she standing next to the Chairman?...As various disguises are unveiled, everyone is silenced, wishing they could hide. Who the hell said she was just a vase? Stand up!A certain lady, bullied, covers her hands and cries in pain.Lord Chen comforts her: My lovely wife is so beautiful and moving, why would you bully her?People, with anger they dare not express, cover their faces.Please make it clear, who is the one being bullied!

“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.