My Wife Longs for Divorce Every Day - Chapter 25 - : 025, the beauty of adulthood

In a world where all magical spells have been captured into cards, those who can build a deck have the most power.The most Arthur could ever hope for was to someday earn a trash-tier spell card. When fate grants him a legendary Master of Skills card, he's thrust into a world of opportunity and danger.To survive and grow strong, Arthur must learn skills. All the skills.

The 35th Test Platoon of Antimagic academy, they’re one of squads enrolled at academy specializing in raising the witch hunters, whose job is to find and neutralize any magical threats!

Unfortunately there’s a group of failures nicknamed “Small Fry Platoon”, a platoon formed from bunch of self-centered people who can’t cooperate and have personality problems.

Will they manage to overcome their weaknesses and shine as the strongest platoon?

Warning!!! This novel contain scenes that are not suitable for children. That includes on killing, suicide... torture... and R-21 scenes

Keira Del Carlo sold her virginity in the auction to save her mother and a billionaire bought her for more than 4 million dollars. Her life turned upside down when she signed the papers that the billionaire gave to her that night after she gave up her innocence.

Alessandro De Alegre was a vicious billionaire when it comes to business. But behind that merciless attitude, there's a soft spot that only meant for her.

He has been searching for his first love for a very long time until he found a lead that she's in an auction. He took advantage of it to have her back and made her sign the marriage contract while she's not herself. She didn’t even recognize him, and that’s when he found out that her memories with him had been erased.

All her time with him, he gave her everything including the Golden Age Entertainment that should belong to her. She lives with him without knowing that she's married to him the night he took her innocence and imprisoned her in his villa. She lives thinking that she’s the mistress.

“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.