Black Corporation: Joseon - Chapter 151

I couldn’t even clear the 2D version, now to clear the game in reality?Maybe I’ll have to live here for the rest of my life.Well, even that won’t be easy.– A player found himself in the game, Dungeon and Stone, as a savage barbarian.To keep his secret, he must become the mask – must make himself be seen as more savage, more fearless than any others – a paragon of his race in the eyes of the whole world.Back on earth, in the empty darkened room, the quiet computer again began to whir. Text began to appear on the black screen.「Synchronization complete. 」

Yan Yi Ming transmigrated into the hottest otome game at present. She became a female cannon fodder destined to be ruthlessly abandoned by the male protagonists; a stepping stone on the white moonlight female protagonist’s path to success.

The system informed her that only by replacing the female protagonist and becoming the white moonlight of the male protagonists then could she successfully escape and return to her world. After years of painstaking efforts, utilizing all kinds of strategies, and adopting various identities did she finally succeed in conquering the four male protagonists. She recovered her true body and eagerly awaited to go home but found that she was unable to go back.

A weak reminder from System:

Please read the user manual carefully: –

1. Become a white moonlight, and

2. To extricate oneself and make a successful retreat from the male protagonists.

Yan Yi Ming looked at the second condition and suddenly found herself in a pickle.

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.

The new book “Cultivation of Immortals Begins from Planting Sweet Potatoes” has been released, and new and old book lovers are welcome to come and read it!

A poor boy whose parents died accidentally found a mysterious space and set foot on the avenue of cultivating immortals. From then on, he planted spiritual herbs, refined elixir, opened shops, trained troops, and established a fairyland…

This article is about cultivating immortals and farming, not for mortals, not for stallions.

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- Description from novelbuddy