Ancient Godly Monarch - Chapter 1968 - Suppression

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”

True evil needs no reason to exist.

“All living creatures must die, but I wont. ”

Once known as the most talented and knowledgeable scholar/philosopher across three continents, he basked in the praise and reverence of those around him. However, tragedy struck one fateful night when he bore witness to the cold-blooded murder of his entire family. Driven to madness, he embarked upon the path of power, the path of negative energy, and thus, The Great Demon, Badur, was born.

In a single day, a mountain of corpses were stacked, many of which fell to his blade. However, during his final pursuit of revenge, he met his untimely demise. His soul was extracted and cast into the void, where it would endure eternal suffering.

However, his jouney would not end here……

“What do you desire?”

A grotesque creature floating in the void asked while staring at the bruised and beaten soul of a young man.

[Ding!! Host has received Void grade Treasure]

[Ding!! Goal has been set : Attain True immortality]

A new lease at life is presented

A deal with a Demon filled with resentment

A new journey, a new Dawn

With that the great Demon, Badur is reborn

ps: the book won't progress the way other novels have been progressing. if you don't like a unique development then maybe this isn't the book for you.

In front of others, he is a cold and callous President of an empire. Young, wealthy and handsome, he is also the Prince Charming in every woman’s heart.

Only Chi Enen knows how temperamental, domineering and possessive he is!

Five years ago, Chi Enen left him and disappeared without a trace. Now, she bumped into him coincidentally and he refuses to let her go.

After their reencounter, he bounds Chi Enen mercilessly to his side. If she is out of his sight for a moment, his paranoia will be triggered…

“I gave in to you in the past because I can’t bear not to. Now, I have already decided to do it my way. I don’t need your agreement.”

“Li Beijue, what do you want from me?”

“I just want you to fall in love with me!”

Chi Enen struggles to get out of his clutches and at the same time, fighting desperately to resist his charm.

Will he discover the truth of what happened five years ago?

“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.