The Mysterious Heiress: Researcher In Disguise - Chapter 113: Stay In The Ancestral Hall For A While

The new book “Rebirth in the Tokyo Bubble Era” has been uploaded and is collected by Urban Business Literature.

Gu Song, a graduate of Yan University, was reborn back to his sophomore year in 2001.

A new life script, derailed by a book that popped into my head.

From then on, the liberal arts masters need to study the black technology of science and engineering with heart.

From then on, bargain hunting for Internet giants and building a business empire are only basic conditions.

The countdown is beating, money is in competition, technology is in competition, and control is in competition!

In this life, fate must be in your own hands!

Fan group 337202561

- Description from novelbuddy

Mo Ran felt that taking Chu Wanning as his master was a mistake.

His Shizun was just so similar to a cat, while he was like a silly dog.

Dogs and cats were biologically different. The silly dog hadn’t originally intended to put his furry paws out towards that cat.

He originally thought that dogs should be with dogs, like his senior brother, who was beautiful and docile, like a cute Japanese Spitz. They would look so good together.

But after dying and coming back to life, after living two lifetimes, the one he’d brought back to his den both times was that snow-white kitty Shizun that he didn’t even have his eye on at first.

- Description from Novelupdates

Kyoukai Senjou no Horizon chronicles the story of a futuristic civilization returned to Earth after constant warfare hindered them from traveling beyond the post-Apocalyptic Earth. At this stage, a small archipelago called the Divine States were the only hospitable land on Earth. In order to regain the space-faring technology they had lost after many years of war, they decided to recreate history with a book called the Testament as a guide.

It is the year 1648 in the Testament Era. Toori Aoi, Chancellor and Student Council President of the only academy on the airborne city-ship Musashi, faces the ten-year anniversary of the death of his childhood friend Horizon Ariadust in an accident. As he prepares to celebrate the occasion by proposing to P-01s (an automaton who looks exactly like Horizon) he discovers that his suspicion about P-01s’ appearance actually has a basis in truth; P-01s is in fact Horizon Ariadust, reborn into a robotic body. In addition to this, Horizon’s emotions had been stripped away and are now stored in eight powerful weapons called the Mortal Sin Armaments; which are now in the possession of key people in various established countries in the Divine States.

To retrieve the emotions of Horizon Ariadust, Toori Aoi along with his friends and allies begins a crusade against different obstacles as key events in history are recreated in a futuristic manner.

“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.