Stranger Danger - Chapter 1130: Adding Hail To Snow

Orphaned at the mere age of seven and thrown out on the streets with no place to go. Kana lived the life of a street rat. She did what she could to survive from digging through the trash and stealing what she could. But even after almost ten years of surviving, her life still ended short.

Yiwen traveled through time, but Yiwen didn’t panic at all…

Because he traveled with him, as well as the character template in the mobile game, and the five devil fruits obtained by the lottery.

Yiwen believes that she can rely on the special physique obtained by charging six yuan for the first time, and the devil fruit in the backpack, and become a strong party in the world of One Piece.

Until Yiwen opened her eyes and saw a crimson dragon.

Only then did Yiwen realize that this was not One Piece at all, but Fairy Tail!

Start to capture Erza? The start was captured by Irene!

- Description from novelbuddy

Living as a concubine’s daughter in her previous life, He Danggui got herself and her daughter tortured and killed by her family and Princess Zhou, while her husband, Lord Ning, allowed them to do so for a secret. After reborn as a child, she swore to hold back her kindness to the villains. How did she survive in a family with various secrets and conspiracies? Who would be her final choice? The love of her previous life or a new lover who could offer her a happy and simple life? Sharing the identities of doctor, political counselor and princess, was she able to bring great changes both in Jianghu and the imperial family? With her intelligence and excellent medical skills, would she let them pay for what they did to her or live differently as a new one?

“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.