It's Hard to Control My Naughty Wife! - Chapter 822: WE NEED TO GO BACK

A human from Earth is thrust into the [Hunter x Hunter] world, becoming the Zoldyck family’s defiant, red-eyed prodigy. They call me a genius and the rightful heir, but I say that’s Killua’s burden to bear.Armed with crimson eyes, and a subtle yet powerful system, I’ll rewrite destiny, upend the world, and embrace the chaos with a wicked grin.

Su Mu took the player panel.

Came to the game world 10,000 years in advance.

The most common talent for players has been drawn:

…immortality.

However…

Although longevity, level experience is locked, what should I do if I can’t upgrade and become stronger?

Only practice, practice, practice!

There is no time in the cave, and a thousand years have passed.

On his way out, he found…

The girl I rescued casually back then actually created a tribe for me? !

Become a tribal totem yourself? !

…

Five thousand years later, the first batch of beta players arrived.

They looked at the totem statue standing in the first tribe, and looked at each other…

“This is the system introduction, a very easy to kill level 1 boss?!”

- Description from novelbuddy

“In a land far to the east, there exists a strange store that has rejected a three Michelin star rating multiple times.

The prices are expensive. A combo set of soup and egg fried rice costs 288 RMB. Oh, I forgot it also includes a side dish of pickles. Even so, very many people line up to wait.

That place does not accept reservations. It only lets in people who are waiting in line there. Countless people make special trips to line up there. Of course, there’s nowhere to park planes or cars.

Their service is so terrible, the customers have to serve their own dishes and grab their own bowls and chopsticks, and they even have to wipe down their own tables! God, the boss is simply crazy.”

—《 Michelin Gourmet Magazine》

- 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.