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... pire’s ears, making him freeze; he was about to finish Amber; the healthy young girl was nothing now but a bag of bones; she was dying. Slowly the vampire turned his head in the voice direction and said.

’’Another prey has shown himself. I will-’’

The vampire couldn’t finish his words because, in the next instant, a kind of fear, a fear he had never felt before, struck him making his body refuse to listen to his command, not even his creator, the person who turned him into vampir ...

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In the vast and grand universe, myriad treasures and artifacts existed, some crafted by the Grand Dao of the universe itself, while countless others paled in comparison to the might of those created by the Grand Dao.Yet, amidst the cosmic expanse, one individual achieved the extraordinary feat of fashioning a treasure on par with those birthed by the Grand Dao.This creator wasn't mortal, nor an immortal cultivator who had ascended to the pinnacle of power.Neither inherently good nor bad, this enigmatic figure stood as the genesis of countless races—a shattered being unlike any ever witnessed.Known by many names, the most prominent being the 'Son of the Universe'.Born directly from the Grand Dao of the universe, he was not the first entity to be brought forth in such a manner.The universe had previously given rise to beings governed by the System of Reality—known by various titles such as Heavenly Daos or World Trees—acting as gods of creation for innumerable planets across the universe.These divine entities, also referred to as the 'Daughters of the Universe', were exclusively female, with no sons among them.However, the Grand Dao of the universe defied this established norm, birthing a Son and thereby breaking the rules of the System of Reality.The treasure forged by the 'Son of the Universe' was lost to time, only to reappear fortuitously in an alley on a fateful night.On that particular night, a young man named Sam Hailstorm stumbled upon this extraordinary artifact, forever altering the course of his life.As for why the Grand Dao birthed such an unimaginable being, why this treasure found its way to Sam, and the purpose behind the Son of the Universe creating such a powerful artifact, join Sam on his journey of discovery as he unravels the truths and destinies that lie ahead.

MTL - I Don’t Want To Fight Anymore After Wearing An Outer RoomChapter 552 will have no wife
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Yu Zhi, a senior salted fish in the world of cultivation, transmigrated into the outer room of the third son of Marquis Wu’an in the Daqing Dynasty. This girl was fair and beautiful, with a delicate body and a soft body. She was presented by a local official when the third son went out to investigate a case.

After Yu Zhi figured out his own situation, his mentality was very stable. The outside room is the outside room, with food and housing included, high salary, low requirements, good-looking boss, good figure, generous hand, where can I find such a good job?

Yu Zhi, this salted fish, was flying in the waves in Daqing.

Keeping on, the boss looked at her with increasingly hot eyes.

Keeping on, the boss insisted on marrying her as the boss’s wife despite the family’s opposition.

No! A marriage with the wrong family has no future, and an office romance is a no-brainer. She just wants to be a low-level employee, not a high-ranking employee.

But facing the boss’s temptation, Yu Zhi touched his chin, tempted! Otherwise, change the map and continue to hang on?

With a thunderbolt from the blue sky, the young minister of Dali Temple and the third son of Marquis of Wu’an’s mansion were actually bewitched by a small concubine from a lowly background, and insisted on marrying her as his wife.

On the day of the wedding, Jing Chengfang’s heart was broken.

Qi Dafei, no one believes that an outer room can secure the seat of the third wife Wen, and everyone sits and waits for Yu Zhi to be divorced

But a year or two passed, not only did Yu Zhi not get divorced, but she was even spoiled by her husband more and more coquettishly

Three years and five years have passed, and Yu Zhi still hasn’t been divorced. She has both children and is held in the palm of her husband’s hand

She has become the most envied woman in the whole capital!

No one knew that Yu Zhi was the woman that Wen Jiuxiao had married with all his might. He didn’t love this world, but for her, he was willing to treat the world kindly.

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“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.