The Grand Secretary’s Pampered Wife - Chapter 502.2: Siscon

In the era of global evolution, humans and monsters coexist, and evolution is the only theme!

Chu Zhou traveled to this world. At the age of 17, he awakened the attribute panel!

Breathing method, combat skills, talents, you can upgrade with points!

Basic breathing method, upgrade 10,000 layers, and become black hole breathing method!

D-level combat skills, upgrade 10,000 layers, and become SSS-level magic skills!

Ordinary talents, upgrade 10,000 layers, and become true god talents!

…

Several years later, Chu Zhou stood on the top of the cosmic pyramid, facing many cosmic overlords, cosmic true gods, and cosmic sages, and summed up his life: Everything I have today is due to my hard work…Deep blue, add points!

- Description from novelbuddy

Chi Yan had always had a weak constitution, and ghosts had always tried to kill him. He had tried many ways to change his situation, but it was all futile.

Coincidentally, Third Master Ye of Shiming City passed away, and a priest informed Chi Yan that Third Master Ye possessed the “look of demon,” Carrying a bit of this man’s ashes and installing an altar for him at home could help control the evil spirits around Chi Yan.

Left with no choice, Chi Yan took a gamble. Amazingly, it worked. However he didn’t expect that he’d be instead be haunted by the most persistent ghost of them all.

Obsessed with love, undying resentment, possessed by evil.

- Description from Novelupdates

Deemed hopeless by her family and that she was better off married when her fourth novel continued to be a flop, aspiring author Xiang Wan begins to doubt herself. While feeling conflicted about continuing her dream as an author, things take an unexpected turn when a dazzling guy appears before her and takes her to the police station.

“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.