The prince longs for me every night after mastering thought-reading - Chapter 75 - 74 Very Refreshing

The world is up for sale, and Robin is making an offer.When Robin Waybright became the Merchant Hero, all of Pangeal turned into his marketplace; for the Merchant can buy and sell anything. Youth, skills, memories, hair color, joys and illnesses… in the trade of power, every deal can tip the scale.And Robin needs power. His homeland of Archfrost teeters on the brink of collapse, the sinister Demon Ancestors plot in the shadows, and twenty-one other Heroes, each with their own Class, have been chosen to save the world of Pangeal. Not all of them are friendly. There’s work to do… and profit to make.Cover by Dinovoila and Gharbi Zouhayer.

Lucas Voss was a normal adult in his late twenties.He doesn't know how or why but he got transmigrated as an extra inside of the novel he read till 5th volume.The problem for Lucas was that his life was in danger as soon as he entered the novel.Why?Because Lucas was transmigrated as the 4th Prince who is an extra and was about to die with an Illness that couldn't be cured.Not only that novel he transmigrated into was 'Cold-Blooded Emperor Rules.'The protagonist of that novel killed every member of the royal palace to become emperor of the empire.How will Lucas survive?Will he die like the extra that he is? or will he fight against fate to survive in this cold-blooded novel and become more than an extra?The only way to know is it read this novel!

“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.

Ein was a hitman on hire. A killer, a shadow, a death with insomnia, if you may.He had witnessed countless pairs of eyes dim as the light of life faded, leaving nothing but vile hollowness. Needless to say, the sight of a soul popping out of the dead body was a first.And it wasn't just any soul. It was the dead heir of Byers Holdings, the same guy he killed with his own hands. Turns out the rich boy Adriel had a horribly irritating and loud soul, but worst of it all - impossible to get rid of.Who would have thought that killing on a blue moon night could lead to being haunted?