Building The Ultimate Fantasy - Chapter 651 - , Ah Shui, why are you here as well?

After reincarnating, she pressed against Mr. Qin. “Sir, from the darkness on your forehead, I predict you’ll soon face a major disaster. If you want to overcome it, you’ll have to marry me. I can guarantee that you’ll have many children and grandchildren. You will also become as rich as a nation.

“Mr. Qin, who was already as rich as a nation, said, “Get lost.”

“Honey, when will we have our third child?” He asked one day.

“So what if she’s Mrs. Qin? She’s still a useless mute,” a hater said.

Shocking! Mr. Qin’s mute wife was actually a world-famous voice actor, actress, award-winning scriptwriter, bestselling author, esports champion, top-notch hacker, and god-like racer…

“Ehh… It’s all for the purpose of entertainment. It doesn’t serve society at all.” The hater was feeling panicked.

Shocking! Ye Caitang is the Dean of the International Medical Research Institute.

“I surrender. There’s no messing with this one. Goodbye…” The hater said.

“Mr. Qin, how do you feel about marrying a full-level bigshot?” The media asked.

“Huh? Isn’t my wife a fortune-teller?” Mr. Qin replied.

Dear readers! Fresh green style, maybe you will like it more in .

Every little girl's fantasy is to live a wonderful life full of riches and luxuries. This was the future she imagined, and she was willing to go to any length to obtain it.She was spoiled, pampered, and doted on by her family, and she was proud of herself. She knew she deserved the best, and she went for it. This, however, is where the nightmare began.Wanting to leave the clutches of poverty wasn't as simple as she believed, given the things she had to give up, the humiliation she had to endure, and the numerous things she had to lose. It was not worthwhile.When she thought she had it all, she was slapped in the face with the cold, hard truth: she was only a SUBSTITUTE.And when two of her closest companions turned on her and betrayed her, she was shoved aside and got humiliated by people she used to know.With nothing and no one to lean on, she was forced to make decisions. Decisions that gradually resulted in something breathtakingly amazing.[DING! SIGN IN! THE HOST HAS BEEN REWARDED WITH ******]

Ding![The Host has died!]A system message popped up in front of Nell's body after his last dying breath.Ding![Dark Evolution has been activated to absorb the death essence of the host.]And then he opened his eyes to find himself in the past right before the battle started.'Ah! Am I back to the past?'Ding![Please choose a partner to start the Dark Evolution process.][Partner Condition: Must be a living creature from the Monster category, not the Human category][Partner Gender has to be Female.]'Partner? A monster?'Nell's heart pounded in his chest, and he felt a cold sweat coming on.'A female monster?'

“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.