My Girlfriend From Turquoise Pond Requests My Help After My Millennium Seclusion - Chapter 542 - Leaving Kunlun

Youth, is meant to be used to shed sweat under the sun!

Youth, is to continuously engage in battles, and secure the win! The endless journey on Heaven’s Road, an endless expedition, a testimony of a hot-blooded youth’s legend!

A dream every man harbors, with the ignition of the blood! Forever young, Undefeated God of War!

- Description from Novelupdates

The Imperial Court of Tang Empire became dim and corrupt. The Emperor believed eunuchs. The officials vied with each other for authority. The Tang Empire was about to collapse. The flouring Confucianism, Buddhism and Taoism eyed it covetously. The three sects wanted to contend for the domination of the whole world. Which one would win in the end? Or would they coexist peacefully at last? Armies of different nations invaded the frontier on all sides. People and the whole world were in extreme misery. Who could save them?

“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.

Her husband, Derrick Vaisil, who had a funeral four days ago, suddenly came back to life. But this man was so different from before he died!

“I’m hungry, wife.”

From regularly turning up in the dining room that he had always avoided,

“How about we use the same bedroom?”

To a furtive suggestion of combining their bedrooms that they had always been using separately.

What in the world happened to this man?

*

“You always give off this delicious smell…………. but how can I bear with it?”

Right now, at this moment, Judith felt like he was a cruel predator who would completely devour her from head to toe easily.

“You, uh, what the hell are you?”

He, who tormented her as he repeatedly sucked on her soft earlobe and put his tongue inside her ear, chuckled.

“What am I?”

Derrick kissed her chin and whispered languidly.

“I am your husband, Judith.”