Heaven, Earth, Me - Chapter 943: Estrella’s Reaction. Cracking The Eggs!

Song Xingcheng found out that he was the cannon fodder for a novel…
The horror is, this is actually a post-apocalyptic novel?!
He relied on the rent of the two buildings to live a happy and free life, and his favorite grilled chicken…

But all of them will be gone!
Fortunately, the golden finger fell from the sky, and he became the lord of the city.

Since then, anywhere he had waved his hand had many houses, vast farmland, roaring factories, and rising technology…
Song Xingcheng not only once again lived a beautiful life of collecting rent and receiving soft hands but he also grabbed a man who can cook chicken!

***

He Qianshan: My skill of making grilled chicken is inherited from my ancestors, come to my bowl soon ~

- Description from Novelupdates

Necromancer】, Originating from ancient Europe, these mysterious wizards were often male, knowing how to summon and enslave the souls of the deceased to create undead creatures. Usually, those who practiced this craft had frail bodies, pale complexions, and twisted psyches, shunning and distrusting others. Some, who mastered the art, could even trade their flesh for an immortal Lich’s life. But can someone tell me how to practice the art of necromancy in the 21st century? In a law-abiding society, I can’t even get a skeleton! Misumi Mikoto: Doctor Chen, come quickly and help me examine this body; I can’t find the cause of death! Jounouchi Hiromi: Doctor Chen, come check on this patient first; what exactly is wrong with him?

Betrayed in her previous life by her fiance and Sister, Claire Smith swore to take revenge on them in this her present life. She was killed mercilessly in her past life by these closest people to her.Meet Alexander Miller the cold hearted young billionaire, he has his eyes on Claire and want to keep her close and also help her take down all people who want to harm her.Will Claire ever be able to love Alex back or will only focus on taking her revenge..............As she slowly opened her eyes she found herself in an unfamiliar environment adjusting her eyes everything became clear she had spend the night with an unknown man.Alex looked at the woman o the bed who seems to be lost in her thought, remembering how the girl had unknownly offered herself to him he felt lucky that he was the one to meet her that day. He smiled planning how to make her his.Join me let's find out how Alex and Claire's story will end.

“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.