The Sinful Young Master - Chapter 158: Fist of blood (18+)

This novel is also known as Female Star Student Is Awesome

Her best friend turned into her younger sister, destroyed her appearance, broke her legs, snatched her powerful fiancé, and designed to kill her mother. Unsatisfied, she locked her up in a mental asylum to be tortured until death!

Yun Hua returned to 13 years of age with hatred. This time, the debt of blood would be paid in blood.

Oppress the poisonous sister, beat up the scumbag fiancé, become the top student, become a scholarly expert, become a manhua artist. In the end, she became the chief anchorwoman on the largest global broadcast…

With one careless mistake, she accidentally took the gold medal during the Olympic swimming competition. The entire country cheered for the champion without knowing that she had no such intentions…

But all along the way, that unapproachable man protected her from nearby.

He spoke: For you, I would block deities. For you, I would fight gods. For you, I would kill Buddha!

He spoke again: If you don’t leave me, I won’t give you up either. I would rather turn my back on the world than slight my darling.

- Description from Novelupdates

The world has changed into something like a game.

It resembles a survival virtual reality game where people were attacked by zombies and monsters.

And I was the last user of that game.

The day she transmigrated it, she was already the wife of two men. She later became the Queen of the country. Her life has been cherished by seven men.

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.