Supreme Harem God System - Chapter 130: I will go with the flow.

There are only two things in Bai Tang’s life that are deeply rooted in her heart. One, fighting and killing, and two, tempering her treasure sword, Canglan.

What? Let her guide the blackened big boss? Since when is she the type to do such a meticulous work?

Hence.

“The host really doesn’t play the cards according to common sense at all!” System 168’s heart expressed extreme fatigue.

Wen Su, who came from the abyss full of bones, said, “If my family and friends loathe me, then I will disregard human relations and disown all blood relatives. If the whole world loathe me, then let blood flows into rivers.”

Bai Tang: Good boy, I will feed and clothe you, give you housing and transportation, poems and distance will also give you. Just be a good person! I will not point a sword at your heart, nor imprison your body with an iron cage.

Wen Su: Oh, but the only thing I want is a wife just like you.

I was in the abyss, but then you came in carrying a poisonous light. But why weren’t you burned by the poison? Since then, unable to forget, I put away my body full of spikes and thorns.

A slow burn love story about a female black lotus big boss VS a scheming villain.

- Description from Novelupdates

The first time she traveled abroad, she encountered the tragedy of a missing plane. When she woke up, she transformed from a sunny girl into a Young Madam!On the very first day after waking up, he tormented her for an entire night, and then he planned to steal her heart! How could there possibly be such good fortune in the world?She swore to escape from his grasp. “Young Master, the Young Madam has run away again...”“Damn it, launch a city-wide search within 24 hours!”He cornered her against the wall: “What exactly do you want?”“You're so disobedient. It seems I'll have to find a way to tie you to me forever...” He said mischievously, gently stroking her flat stomach.[The main text has been completed.]

She is a descendant of an Ancient Chinese Aristocratic family. Having just transmigrated into a young lady’s body filled with aphrodisiacs, she had no choice but to pounce at a random man upon arrival.

“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.