Reborn As A Ghost: Time To Build My Undead Army! - Chapter 1179: [Divine Myriad Soul & Body Egos]

Coco Coison, after her untimely death at the hands of a fairy, finds herself transmigrated into the body of Coco Hughes, a woman with a troubled past. However, Coco was bestowed upon an ability: she was given abilities similar to Lala, a garden fairy, as compensation from Lala's sister.Eager to embrace her new life and start afresh in this unfamiliar world, Coco soon discovers that her new reality is far from what she wanted it to be.She encounters the four husbands of Coco Hughes, only to learn that they harbor deep resentment towards her due to Coco Hughes's abusive behavior— both physically and emotionally.Despite her intentions to lead a better life, Coco realizes that she must go through the complicated relationships and work to mend the damage caused by Coco Hughes to the husbands, who are now tied to her fate.Coco Coison must confront her past actions in a world where she is both an outsider in the lives of those Coco Hughes has wronged while carving a path for her to separate herself from her husbands.However, they seem to have another plan.“Where are you going? Stay for the night.” The first husband who doesn't like her presence around the house had started to let her stay.“Coco, what the f*ck are you doing? I told you to not lift a hand after coming back from outside!” The second husband who likes slaving her, cusses her out from trying to make herself a cup of tea.“The librarian told me that you went to the main city to get me books again. I thought I told you to stop doing that and put yourself at risk?” The third husband who loves books more than anything else had scolded her for doing her supposedly weekly errand told by him.“Who told you to go and ask those mediators to sing for you? I'm here, I can do it for you.” The fourth husband who doesn't like to sing for her had made it his daily task to sing for her before she goes to sleep.Coco Coison only wanted to live her life peacefully and earn money so she could divorce the four husbands, but it seems like they didn't want that.“It seems that tons of leeches want to have you around, huh? How about we get ourselves busy and have some kids fill the empty space of this house?”

Gao Yang was a military enthusiast, an ordinary one, who loved knives, guns, and adventure.In an accident, Gao Yang found himself in Africa, where he unfortunately experienced a plane crash. Although he miraculously survived, his life henceforth was one where he could only scrape by under the muzzle of guns, for he had become a mercenary.What heights could a military enthusiast reach in the international Mercenary World?Please, wait and see.

My handsome, overpowered dad, who only ever cared about me, ate something strange and turned into the Demon King. He used to be the sweetest, most doting father, but now he’s the final boss?! Because of this, my dad is fated to be killed by the male lead, and I’m destined to die lonely while mourning him. At that moment, I returned to the past and realized that this world is actually a game! I couldn’t prevent my dad’s descent into darkness, but no matter what, I must turn him back into his original self. If I succeed, I can get my loving dad back, right? For now, I need to get close to the male lead, who’s destined to kill my father…! So, I became a Holy Knight and even managed to be adopted as the ward of the Pluto Ducal House—the male lead’s family. …The problem is, I’ve become way too strong. As long as I get along with the male lead, my dad might avoid being labeled as the Demon King. “But that’s strange.” “…What is?” “Your lips… they’re heart-shaped.” “W-what? Don’t look at my lips!” At that, the male lead tried to avoid my hand and ended up rolling under the bed. “Ahhh!” “…?” He’s supposed to be the strongest person who’ll one day kill my dad, but for now, the male lead is just too cute.

“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.