After Being Reborn, Her Only Mission Is to Love Him - Chapter 43 - : Is that...really okay?

Things were going great for the demon Bael-Sharoth until a little girl summoned him to open a jar of tomato sauce. Now he's trapped in the human world along with his arch nemesis the beautiful and capable Maharet Flameheart. Life isn't easy for a demon in a small town. But at least the parks are hellhound friendly and the werewolf at the local bookshop seems nice enough. Bael and Maharet must find a loving human family to take in this powerful young witch before time runs out or risk being stuck on earth forever.What to expect: A cozy found family romantic comedy in the style of Good Omens and On a Pale Horse.Gruesomely Wholesome. Enemies to Lovers. Strong Male and Female Characters. Loyal Hellhounds. Sassy Hellcats. A happy ending.

Chen Sansi traveled back to the chaotic end of a dynasty, thankfully with the hardworking system by his side. He originally wanted to hunt to earn money and someday go to the Martial Arts Hall to learn some basic fist and foot techniques, aspiring just to be an ordinary rich man. Yet, fate had other plans. With officials imposing heavy taxes and the Martial Arts Hall bullying the citizens, he had no choice but to enlist in the army to survive, becoming an archer. From “archery (entry-level),” he worked tirelessly up to “operating a ten thousand weight bow, where arrows cannot be dodged,” taking the heads of enemy generals from a hundred miles away! From “basic soldier’s spear technique,” he worked tirelessly up to “National Guardian Dragon Spear, growing more valiant with each battle,” standing firm with a spear on horseback, alone turning back the Enemy Army of a million! Years later, Chen Sansi, having campaigned in the south and battled in the north, was truly invincible under the heavens, commanding two hundred thousand of the Iron Cavalry. Watching his subordinates forcibly ascend him to the throne and become emperor, he felt quite helpless: ’You... you have really caused me trouble!’

She is a top-class spy, a poison specialist, but also a young and cute girl with a sinister temperament. In spite of her sweet and innocent appearance, she can complete any tasks without the slightest hesitation. One day because of an incomplete black magic, she was sent into the body of a girl who was deemed as a good-for-nothing. What kind of change will she bring to this continent?

“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.