Master Ye's Second Marriage - Chapter 80

A kind girl falls in love with a vicious killer. Unhinged Yuri story set in Seoul.------“Like a prey waiting with a trap, I missed my predator.I missed her touch in the places I’ve never been touched.I wanted to hear her sing the songs that I’ve never heard.”------As the blood dripped off the knife she held firmly in her pale hand, I saw my reflection in the cold blade that had just taken the life of a man.I dreamed of magical moments like this every day.Something - someone to come and free me from the suffocating monotony of normalcy.She stormed into my life brandishing death, and in the moment of madness, my heart fluttered.Then she came to my place, uninvited. I treated her wounds and fed her. She slept on my couch like a cat. We started our lives together. Death bound us like the knot of tie I fixed for her as she left for work - to kill, kill, and to kill again.I spent countless nights sitting in darkness, on my couch hugging my knees, gripped with worry and excitement. I prayed for her safe return home, but I did not pray for the souls she’d be sending to hell.But she always returned, like a stray cat coming for food in the back alley behind a restaurant. I was the cook who put out the food for her, stroked her, and gave her shelter.A stray cat. A great feline predator. She was mine and mine alone.Together we laughed, alone I cried.Together we laughed, alone I cried.But I think we also loved.I think.------This is a dark and twisted psychological slice-of-life romantic comedy with a sprinkle of inspiration from the noir genre. If that doesn’t make sense, it’s because it doesn’t.

He was very happy to be reborn, but why was he sixteen again, he can’t bear to look back at that time.

Why does he return to being sixteen years old, yet still meet Doomsday?

It’s alright to encounter the end of the world, so why did he have to fall in love with someone?

Even if he falls in love with another person, why did it have to be a man?

Falling in love with a man is also alright, so why did it need to be a secret one-sided love?

Even a secret and unrequited love is alright, so why is that man his….

- Description from Novelupdates

In the twenty-seventh year of Hong Guang, the allied forces of seven nations invaded the Great Blue Dynasty.Rifled muskets, mortars, and armored vehicles combined into a steel tide, were ultimately shattered by the Great Blue's armored cavalry.Muscle, magic, firearms, cannons... the new and the old powers continuously collided.In an era of great strife, Li Fei, with the help of a Ten Thousand Blood Bead, gradually became an existence akin to a BOSS:'Is this the extent of your damage? You haven't even taken off one-thousandth of my health.''You don't think this is enough to kill me, do you?''Don't rush, the second phase is up next!'......

“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.