King - Chapter 1103 - 164, Can’t Go Back

She transmigrated into an orphan, thinking that she still had her boyfriend with her, yet in an instant, her world crashed. For the position of heir, he said, “Yao’er, why don’t you become my second wife?” A sentence destroyed her wishful thinking, causing her to end their relationship of two lives cruelly. Leaving the hustle bustle, she then lived in a forest, wanting to find an honest man to spend the rest of her life with. But not long after getting married, she realized that the honest man she married was a bit dishonest.

“Are you not an ordinary hunter?” she stared at the man pretending to be innocent in a furious manner. Is the ending going to be this way? Of course not, the story had just begun from the moment she changed her future.

- Description from Novelupdates

On this land of real souls, with millions of different martial art institutions, there’re so many strong fighters just like the trees in the forests.

William knew he shouldn't have taken that boat, but ambition can kick you in the teeth.Relma Artorious knew she should not listen at doors. But she is a girl with big ambitions and no intention of being less than her potential.Abdul Sahshir knew he should not undertake that assassination on Tuor's mountain. Yet, with his life ending before it has begun, he has nothing to lose and everything to gain by glory.Three stories intertwine and shape the destiny of many more. But not all heroes are on the same side, and the shifting of dreams and destiny is a fickle one...The compiled documentation of all my published stories on Royalroad. Read if you want to go all the way through to the end.

“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.