Strongest Grimoire Of The Gods - Chapter 73: Truid Dungeon Quest (14) Wrong Choice...

Bibi Dong, once the powerful Supreme Pontiff, never expected to be reborn—especially not as someone else's martial spirit. In this new life, she finds herself bound to a young soul master with great potential but little knowledge of the powerful spirit within him.As Bibi Dong guides her host, she must confront her past mistakes and figure out why she was given this second chance. Is it to correct her past, or is there something more at play?

“Congratulations, you're now a Handler. You'll serve the state with utmost loyalty and pledge your life to its causes.”That was what Trent heard just before being handed an envelope—and a whole lot of disrespect.Mocked for his poor combat performance and labeled pathetic by his superiors, Trent finishes Handler training humiliated and underestimated. But they made one mistake: they judged him by his strength, not his mind.What Trent lacks in brute force, he makes up for with a rare genius in finance.So when a mysterious voice speaks to him in the bathroom—“Hello, Host. This is Ave-511e69.”His world flips upside down.Now equipped with Ave, a mysterious financial system that seems to know everything, Trent is about to rise through the ranks in a way no Handler ever has.Through stock markets, black-market missions, and calculated chaos, he will prove that money is the greatest weapon of all.They looked down on him. Now, they’ll look up in fear.

Recently, major news broke out in A City. A rich family discovered that the daughter they had raised for eighteen years was not their biological offspring. The real young lady was found, and the fake young lady was sent away. Lu Ning was now a beautiful swan who had turned into an ugly duckling. Everybody waited for the opportunity to laugh at her. They wanted to see how she would survive after being pampered like a princess for eighteen years. However, Lu Ning wasn’t afraid at all. So what if she was poor? All she had to do was earn money. But before she could bring wealth to her family, they brought her home and started counting stacks of cash. Her eldest brother, a business mogul, offered her a few companies.

“These are all yours now. There are more if you want them. You can choose anything from dining, entertainment, fashion, theme parks, and any industry you can think of.” “Ning, would you like to participate in a talent show? I’ll write you a recommendation letter,” her second brother, a major celebrity, asked. Even her youngest brother, a computer expert, said, “Sis, whoever says bad things about you on the internet will never get to use it again.” “…” Lu Ning was speechless. Wasn’t her family poor and useless?

“Ning, if you don’t like gold, I’ll get someone to bring you diamonds instead. You can have diamonds embedded in all your clothes. What do you think? Hang on. I’ll get someone to do it right away!” Lu Ning’s mother said.”Ning, are you getting bored of the black card? Why don’t I give you one with a credit limit? Is 50,000,000 enough?” Lu Ning’s father asked. “Huh?” Lu Ning was confused. Wasn’t her family so poor that they couldn’t even pay off their mortgage? Lu Ning didn’t even have any opportunity to contribute. There was nothing for her to do.

However…”Come and be our boss!” A secret organization approached her.”Come and be my successor!” The director of a research center approached her.”Is this never going to end? I just want to be an ordinary person!” Lu Ning exclaimed. “Baby! Come into my arms!” Mr. Huo, an extremely wealthy man, arrived at top speed.

“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.