Villain: Without morals, you can't be manipulated! - Chapter 50 - If I’m the Demon King, Then You’re the Demon Queen

Adrian Voss was a forgotten beta tester—erased by a corrupt game company that put profit over players.Now reborn in Primordial Abyss with a glitched class that lets him control dungeon bosses, he doesn’t grind levels… he grinds players.Every monster he subjugates becomes a weapon. Every raid boss he enslaves earns him passive income. And every overconfident guild that steps into his domain?They drop loot when they die.But this isn't just another OP power trip. Adrian doesn't win because he's stronger—he wins because he's smarter. He lays traps like a raid leader, exploits mechanics like a dev, and rewrites the system from the shadows.From dungeons to PvP, he turns the most advanced gaming system ever built into a weapon that stabs its creators in the back.Now the streamer assassins, sponsored guilds, and even the developers are hunting for the one they call...The Dungeon Phantom.Too bad they don’t realize:The real dungeon isn’t the game.It’s the one they’re walking into.Let the hunt begin.

In the residence of the Duke of Zhenguo, the legitimate young miss, known for her icy demeanor, had transformed overnight.She, who usually regarded no one, woke up to confront anyone she saw with a few harsh words, using her frail body to intimidate so much that no one dared to touch her.Afterwards, this legitimate young miss began taking on retainers, nurturing powerful officials, engaging in commerce, and recruiting troops… Every act so shocking and audacious, it defied the norms and provoked fear in all who spoke of her!Yan Wanqing was seen as an enchantress and a disaster by the people, a thorn in the flesh and a nail in the eye that the ministers wanted desperately removed, an entity everyone shunned as if she were a venomous snake.Only the Crown Prince Mingyue, descending from the divine altar, in the dark, godless alleys, grasped her neck and repeatedly asked her, “Will you marry me or not?”

Long time ago, the world was ruled by the Primordials — an ancient and powerful race who mastered magic and shaped the land with runes and magic. They built bastions that stood as monuments to their greatness, cities protected by powerful enchantments. But their thirst for even greater power led to disaster. They opened gates to another realm… and unleashed demons.What followed was swift and brutal. The Primordials fought back, but they lost. Their civilization crumbled, their names were erased, and only the magical bastions remained — sealed places protected by forgotten runes that even demons could not cross.Now, demons rule the night. Humanity lives in fear, hiding behind rune-marked walls, unaware of their true origins or how close the world stands to its final collapse.Into this broken world falls Alex — a stranger from another reality. Upon his arrival, he awakens a forbidden power within himself: nature magic and the ability to shapeshift. A gift… and a curse.Magic is forbidden. Hunted. Destroyed. If anyone discovers what he is, he could be executed on the spot. But only through his power does Alex stand a chance of surviving… and fighting back. As he journeys across this dark and ruined land, he begins to unravel secrets long buried, truths about the demons’ origin, and the real reason the world fell.This is a dark fantasy tale of blood, survival, ancient knowledge, and inner transformation. Alex must choose what he will become: a monster, a savior… or something in between.Hello and welcome to everyone who decided to read my first writing attempts!The story you are reading is created in my free time, so new chapters will be released approximately 3-4 times a week. I run my own business, which sometimes makes it difficult to find a moment to sit down and fully focus on writing.I'm a fan of brutal, bloody scenes – the kind that stay in your mind long after you've finished reading. I have a vivid imagination, and when I write, I see each of these fights clearly, as if they were happening right in front of me: torn bodies, blood spraying, guts... none of that sugar-coated fighting.I try to transfer these images from my head to the page with as much intensity as possible, so you can feel the same tension and thrill that I do while writing.I also want to build a sense of horror – especially when it comes to monsters. I'm not interested in easy enemies. These are meant to be creatures you feel before you see them. The kind that stir fear and force the characters into desperate decisions.I hope you'll enjoy these scenes too – brutal, emotional, and full of darkness.As for the plot, I already have a general outline in my head, so there’s a lot of writing ahead of me. In the future, the story may include R18 scenes, but before that, I want to build a solid world and well-developed characters.If you have any ideas or suggestions, feel free to reach out—I’d love to discuss them, and maybe we can add something interesting to the story!Enjoy the read!

I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.