The Days of Being the Richest Man in the Ninja World - Chapter 337. Expanding Production Lines

She gave up her wealth and power to save her husband and his company when they were on the brink of extinction.However he repaid her by bringing home his childhood sweetheart and divorcing her! He insulted her, called her names, a cheap lowly bitch and a gold-digger. Her sister in law treated her like trash, her mother in law called her a scheming fox who wanted to climb the social ladder.Fine! Divorce so it is then!Left without a single penny, she applied for a job and became a waitress. Who would know she bumped into her ex husband and his new fiancée there?!But there was another man whose business contract she accidentally discarded.That mysterious man came to her with a condition.“You made me lost a very important business contract, now you must pay,”“How much? I don't have money. I'm not for sale either,” the girl raised her chin arrogantly.“Become my fake girlfriend. I need a woman to please my grandfather,” Shentu Jing said. His charming dark eyes seemed to be tempting her, luring her into an abyss.But when she arrived in front of his grandfather, he announced her as his fiancée!“I thought you said I was your girlfriend!” Qin Zhuzhu glared daggers at him.“Sorry, now you are my wife,” the man's peach blossom eyes gazed at her lovingly.Who is this mysterious husband of hers?One day her phone rang with a notification of the latest financial news. There, she saw a man similar to her husband. Her husband is the richest Tycoon in the capital???!!!

Mu Xi was reborn back to the age of eighteen, and became a waste of women disguised as men and abandoned by the family.

waste? Say who?

The mysterious master of metaphysics is she,

She is the dean of the medical world,

The great god of the game industry and the top of the hacker world is also her…

With countless vests, she suddenly became an almighty boss who turned her hands into clouds and covered her hands into rain.

*

“Mu Xi, as long as you come back, grandpa is willing to pass on the position of the head of the family to you.”

Mu Xi raised his eyelids lazily, looked at the old Patriarch Mu who was looking at him expectantly, and said word by word, “I don’t care!”

*

“Big brother! Big brother! I heard that you can do anything.”

Mu Xi smiled modestly, “I can’t say that, at least I won’t have children yet.”

The next moment, a figure passed by and carried away Mu Xi who was being interviewed, “Mrs. Ling, are you implying that I’m not working hard enough?”

*

Let’s see how the trash “juvenile” succeeded in counterattack and reached the pinnacle of life.

This article is one-on-one, double-strength, and cool.

- Description from novelbuddy

In a bustling modern city where ancient secrets and mysterious powers collide with everyday life, 22-year-old Ethan Cross seems like your average college student. Behind his unassuming demeanor lies a man shrouded in secrets—a masked vigilante known only as “Virtuoso,” feared by criminals and sought after by powerful organizations.Ethan is overpowered, sarcastic, and ridiculously skilled at everything he does. But there's one thing he’s terrible at: romance. When the enigmatic and fiercely independent Mia Harper stumbles into his life, she unknowingly becomes the key to unraveling a conspiracy that ties Ethan's past to an ancient prophecy.Between laugh-out-loud moments, explosive action, and unexpected twists, Ethan navigates his double life while trying to protect Mia, keep his identity hidden, and maybe—just maybe—figure out how to confess his feelings without being a complete disaster.

“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.