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... cial. The color matching thread made the clothes even more eye-catching. The pleated cake dress under her skirt added a few sweet flavors. The elegant and sweet atmosphere easily won others' attention.

It even had a matching set of clothes, so it was just right for her to wear! After Yun Hanxiao put on his clothes, she saw a matching small bag. 𝑓𝑟eℯ𝒘𝗲𝑏n𝑜𝚟𝙚𝒍.𝒄o𝐦

Oh, it's good to be rich! Someone bought everything for you with just a word! However, Yun Hanxiao didn't have ...

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After Wang Mang died, he turned into a giant python, evolving crazily!

With the help of his family, he is getting bigger and bigger!

From the first few meters, tens of meters, to hundreds of meters!

From the Burmese python, to the Titan python, to the deep sea python!

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He rose from abjection and achieved eternity in glory.
He embraced the prettiest beauties and killed the strongest opponents.
He was able to shift the clouds into rain and cover the sky with one hand.
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He pacified wars and held the world in awe.
He was matchless in the world.
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He struggled his way to become mighty and fought for everything he cherished.
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His name was a byword for might.
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Suddenly being thrown into the world of the novel and possessing a pretty much fucked up character made him have no choice but to continue his life as a new identity.

And just like any sane person that transmigrated into a book, of course, he would destroy every red flag that stood in his way.

Yet, unbeknownst to him, every single thing he did was just wrecking the storyline more and even more; to the point that the plot had become utterly screwed, thanks to him.

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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.