Divine Path System - Chapter 1380 X1

On the night of her coming-of-age ceremony, Nan Zhi is lured into a trap by the people closest to her and falls pregnant.

Four years later, she returns with her son.

A respected and domineering man suddenly barges into her world.

“Speak! Who is the child’s father?”

An adorable child holding a water gun appears out of nowhere, shouting, “Who is this wild man? How dare he snatch Brother Jie’s goddess?!”

From then on, two small domineering brats and a manchild are added to her world.

In the middle of the night, he sneaks into her room, pressing a heated kiss onto her lips.

“Woman, do you know what’s the result of stealing my seed?”

“What?”

“From now on, you have to let me kiss and pamper you everyday.”

Erm… How was her inability to walk the next day, the result of his pampering?

Camilla Sanchez's life took a devastating turn when she lost her parents at a young age. Adopted by her uncle, she expected a loving home, but instead, she endured a nightmare. The situation worsened on her 24th birthday when she was forced into replacing her cousin, Clara, and marrying the ruthless cursed billionaire, Sinclair Luther.Camilla viewed the arrangement as a loveless contract marriage but it seemed fate had other plans. Camilla died tragically and her perspective changed as everything came into light.In a surprising twist, Camilla was reborn on the eve of her forced marriage.Given a second chance, Camilla must now decide: will she accept her fate as a replacement bride? Will she find love with Sinclair Luther? Or will this second life lead to another loveless, painful marriage?Dive into (title) to discover the answers.

“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.