Demon Lord and His Unknown Child With the Empress - Chapter 23Vol. 1 - - Tell Us the Truth

Waking from his sleep, Yue Feng found himself the owner of a fishing gear store on the brink of bankruptcy, and his time travel had landed him a rather “awkward” career as well as a system to assist him,From then on, the small town had a fishing gear store that wasn’t large in scale but had quite the reputation,With the blessing of the system (cheat), Yue Feng started livestreaming and playing the internet celebrity game to great success.Traditional fishing? Yue Feng played with the Seven-star float in the weed beds so divinely.Sitting platform fishing? He was the contestant who ascended to the rank of Special Level Competitive Fishing Master at the speed of light.Lure fishing? To him, catching a kilogram-class tarpon was just a beginner's move, and even meter-long silver dragons were nothing more than a dish on the table. Dream Fish Species were like picking things out of his pocket.Deep-sea fishing? He held the world record for the heaviest single-tail bluefin spearfish.There aren’t many sports in this world that can make a weathered adult as happy as a child, and fishing is definitely one of them. Let us witness the rise of a fishing god who achieved the pinnacle by fishing (cheating)!

WARNING!-DARK ROMANCE-A shifter will only have mate from their kind, but what happens if you are the last creature of your kind?Lycan.He is the last of his kind and is the most terrifying type of shifter. But, as scary as he was, he was alone.However, in order to survive, you don’t have to be the strongest, just deadliest.***He looked at her like he had never seen anyone before. The sight of her calmed the rush in his ears, the beat of his heart and finally he was able to focus again…“She is no longer your responsibility. She is mine to deal with now,” the lycan said.

Eight hundred years ago, Zhang Ruochen, the son of Emperor Ming, was killed by his fiancee, Princess Chi Yao.

Eight hundred years later, Zhang Ruochen came back to life, only to discover that the fiancee who once killed him had unified the Kunlun realm and opened up the first central empire, known as “Queen Chi Yao”.

Empress Chi Yao – ruling the world, she is powerful in all directions; youth is eternal, immortal and immortal.

Zhang Ruochen stood outside the ancestral hall of the emperors, looking at the statue of Empress Chi Yao, with a raging flame of hatred burning in his heart, “When I rebuild it for thirteen years, dare to call the empress to Huangquan.”

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.