The President's Pregnant, Ex-Wife - Chapter 376 – The media representatives have surrounded the building

The Geng family announced to the upper-class society of Bing City that their adoptive daughter was not who they thought she was. They did this because she tried to become more successful by networking her way up. In the end, they kicked her out of the family.

The Geng family’s first daughter was multi-talented, gentle, and one of the most famous ladies in Bing City. On the other hand, their adoptive daughter, Wen Xin, was talentless, unsuccessful, and utterly inferior to their first daughter.

After leaving the Geng family, Wen Xin started on her new journey. She became a miracle doctor who helped Madam Mu in Jing City, a grand prize winner in a piano competition, a master-level composer, and the owner of the largest comprehensive laboratory of Physics and Biology…

Her multiple identities were revealed one after another, and news about her kept going viral. She was showing those who looked down on her that they had gotten her all wrong.

“Look! That’s the woman who wouldn’t leave my idol alone…”

“Sorry, but I’m already in a relationship!”

One day, her jealous significant other couldn’t take it anymore. He stopped acting cold and wrapped his arm around her waist.

“When are you going to announce who I am?” he asked in a soft voice while his gaze shifted downward.

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Kazuki’s life was painfully average—just another cog in the nine-to-five grind. His only escape? Binge-reading novels and no-lifing video games.Then he woke up inside one of those novels.Armed with unstable morals, unhinged humor, and a penchant for pettiness, Kazuki is determined to survive, thrive, and maybe cause a little chaos along the way.The world has no idea what’s coming.

“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.