Ditsy Wife: Mysterious Husband is Unfathomable - Chapter 221

Yang Yi, along with everyone else, is thrust upon a Maritime Survival Game.Some lucky individuals possess special ships; the Iron Heart is armed to the teeth, the Swift Wind is so fast it’s almost invisible, and the Ironhead charges forward with a massive ram.Only the Nightmare, Yang Yi’s ghost ship, has strange and gory elements.The protagonist’s journey won’t be smooth sailing — this is not a story for the weak-hearted.

Journey through the combined world of the Special Forces series and become the acknowledged bad soldier of the Iron Fist?

Don’t panic! The “Strongest Individual Soldier System” is here to help. Every time you upgrade a level, not only will your body be strengthened, but you can also acquire super skills. At the beginning, you will activate the S-level shooting skills, which will amaze the audience and overwhelm everyone! Thus, a vanguard that made the heads of state tremble was born…

He Chenguang: “Did you practice martial arts from the womb?”

High school team: “He is the scariest individual soldier I have ever seen, bar none!”

Lei Zhan: “It’s unlucky. In his hands, I’m like a three-year-old child. I can’t beat it! I can’t beat it!”

He Zhijun: “Xiao Lin, the future of Langya is in your hands, I will retire early!”

- Description from novelbuddy

[The 3000th Descent of Mystery is about to begin.][This is your only chance to redeem yourself.]When the whole world was in danger, Wang Teng activated a unique talent.It was the Rank SSS talent - Inequivalent Exchange!He was not purchasing things for free, but the exchange was not equivalent.[Exchange successfully. You used half a bowl of cup noodles. With your Rank SSS talent, you may retrieve an unlimited supply of cup noodles.][Exchange successfully. You used a bottle of Sad Breeze wine to exchange for the Star Shifting Method.]…From then on, Wang Teng activated a new exchange system.

“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.