Dungeon Defense - Chapter 426: Fall of Gold (10)

After transmigrating, Su Liang married the same man three times.The first time, it was just a transaction.The second time, it was still a transaction.The third time, it was...“Third time's the charm. Let's make it real,” Gu Ling said.Female Lead's Perspective:She was a military doctor who transmigrated, and she became a miserable village girl who would be killed by her scheming relatives.After seeking revenge, with nowhere else to go, she ended up living with a handsome husband. Her husband was a literal trickster. Their life together was full of ups and downs, with twists and turns and more downs...“How about we part ways?” Su Liang suggested seriously.The handsome husband said, “Let's talk about that in our next life.”Male Lead's Perspective:Born with special abilities, he chose to live in seclusion. He always made people around him leave, but she was the first person he asked to stay.Gu Ling believed that he and Su Liang were destined to be together.Anyone against it?He was always saving people, but occasionally killing a few was no big deal.

Wen Zhi had a treasure, which allowed her to enter other people's dreams.Therefore, on her first day residing at the Shang family residence, she decided to explore Lady Shang's dreams first, to curry favor with her by pandering to her preferences...But an accidental bug occurred, and the person who ended up sharing Wen Zhi's dream was the person in charge of the Shang family, and her best friend's cousin, Shang Hexing!To figure out whether it was her own dream or a shared one, Wen Zhi discreetly told her best friend, “Your cousin has a red mole on his chest.”Her best friend, horrified, warned her, “My cousin is an unattainable flower, cold-hearted and solely focused on his career. There's no future between you two.”Wen Zhi was relieved. This must be her own dream.Recently, Shang Hexing had been troubled by frequent dreams at night.In those dreams, the same woman always appeared, with a delicate and soft body and a sweet, mellow voice that completely mesmerized him.It wasn't until he noticed that the young girl his mother had taken in was recently looking at him with panicked eyes...

“Release faster! Why aren’t today’s chapters out yet?”“… Senior Sister, it’s only six in the morning.”“Then what about yesterday? There was only one chapter!”“… Romance slice-of-life stories rely heavily on the details. Inspiration is needed when writing.”“Then, where does your inspiration come from? You’re clearly single.”“… My imagination.”“In that case, why don’t you date someone? You can get some material too.”“… I need to write. I don’t have time.”“How about I help you?”“… Help me write?”“Of course not! I mean dating!”“… Senior Sister, stop joking around.”***This is a slice-of-life university love story between a struggling web novel author and a beautiful illustrator, in which they mutually suffer social death.Single female lead, no melodrama, no angst.

“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.