MTL - I Have a Big Problem with My Achievement System - Chapter 388 Real dragon change!

Ruan Qiuqiu had transmigrated into a cannon fodder that had the same name as her in the novel, Sweet Pampering in Ancient Times: Demon King Husband, Please Spare Me

Right now, there were two paths before her:

Option 1: Continue playing the role of the supporting female character. After a few rounds of being faceslapped by the female lead, she would die tragically in the beast tide.

Option 2: For the sake of the tribe having enough salt, marry the wolf tribe’s former chief, a fierce wolf demon that was disfigured, crippled, and possibly had personality issues.

Ruan Qiuqiu chose the second option without hesitation. She rather go live a peaceful and ambitious-free life than compete with the female lead over some guy.

—

Due to a mishap, Mr. Big Bad Wolf, who had the blood of fiends in him, had become disfigured, crippled, and blind.

He was on the verge of death and his tribe had abandoned him. When he fell to the state of being so hungry that he was gnawing on ice…

The young bride, who his tribe had exchanged 300 catties of salt for, carefully walked to his side and covered his ugly damaged body with an animal hide.

She softly called him, “Husband?”

The journey to the martial peak is a lonely, solitary and long one. In the face of adversity, you must survive and remain unyielding. Only then can you break through and continue on your journey to become the strongest. Sky Tower tests its disciples in the harshest ways to prepare them for this journey. One day the lowly sweeper Kai Yang managed to obtain a black book, setting him on the road to the peak of the martials world.

Three years after graduation, Chu Mo, who could barely maintain his most basic life, opened the Shenhao system, and an unlimited and safe bank card appeared in front of him. start a company? to invest? buy stocks? These in unlimited banks…

- 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.