Vampire God in the Apocalypse - Chapter 137 - 134. Access to the lab

“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.

After getting betrayed and killed by the only person she’d loved, Miss Shang wakes up in the body of the cowardly crown prince Shang Wuxin, who, due to her own circumstances, was actually a girl cross-dressing as a boy. After inheriting the crown prince’s memories, Shang Wuxin has three things on her agenda:

1. Clean up the house

2. Gather loyal followers and soldiers

3. Get the throne

This novel is about low ranking staff Shan Shan being oppressed by the Big Boss. She keeps fighting but keeps losing. So she finally stopped struggling and obediently surrendered…

Shan Shan, extremely docile, waited outside the delivery room at the temporary blood bank. At the same time, the big boss sent her away to do a blood test to ensure she was of good health and suitable blood type.

Sure enough, the pregnant woman was in a critical condition. Thus, Shan Shan obediently let 300 cc of her blood being pumped. The condition of the pregnant woman improved. Shan Shan received many thanks, left the hospital and lamented this while looking at the moon:

“Capitalists really are blood-suckers, heartless, heartless.”

Shan Shan, who is deep in thought, did not notice a black limousine has stopped behind her. The man at the back seat heard her sigh, moved his mouth and then closed the recently opened window.

“Drive home.”

“Boss, didn’t you just say you want to send Miss Xue back?”

“No need,” the man said without expression, “capitalists are heartless.”

“My name is Yang Jian, when you are reading this, I am already dead.”A mysterious sheepskin scroll, an eye that peers into darkness, this is the tale of a survivor