My Virtual Girlfriend Is Actually a Lady From the Richest Family - Chapter 117: Dinner Part 1

To sum up in a sentence, *slag men **washing white daily, transmigrating to different worlds to wash white, and the goal is to become a good man!

Note:
*Slag men refer to men who play with women’s hearts aka scum.
**Washing white means to come clean, fix up your life.

- Description from Novelupdates

An acid rain, a biohazard.

A new folder, a global arsenal.

As long as Tang Zheng collects enough gold, he can buy any weapon.

This is a story about a military fan who acquires an arsenal of weapons, fights zombies in the last days, saves good people and eliminates bad people.

…………

Book Friends Penguin Group (746860067)

Key words of the novel: Commander of the Last Days has no pop-up window, Commander of the Last Days txt complete works download, Commander of the Last Days latest chapter reading

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.

He is the heir of Di Hao Group; decisive, cold-blooded yet dotes on his wife a little too much.

“Husband, I think I want to rear a pet. What do you think we should rear?”

“Rear you.”

“Husband, I want to change bed sheets. Which material do you think is the most comfortable to sleep on?”

“You.”

“………”

Zhuang Nai Nai: Can’t he speak properly for once?

One day, somebody asked the man, “Why are you always the first one to bow your head every time you two fight?”

Si Zheng Ting: “I am 185 cm, she is 165 cm. Of course I have to bow down to speak to her.”

To put it short, this is a story about a black-belly president, his wife and their effort to conceive children after marriage.

- Description from Novelupdates