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... .

A strange sound issued from somewhere, and Ludmila opened her eyes to the sight of Aemilia sitting on her own bed, getting dressed. It wasn’t her, however, so she turned over to face the living area of the manor, trying to figure out what the noise was. There was no light against the table: it appeared that dawn had not broken yet.

Since she still had several hours until she needed to wake up and prepare for Lady Shalltear’s arrival, Ludmila decided to stay in bed. Suppressing ...

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Song Xingcheng found out that he was the cannon fodder for a novel…
The horror is, this is actually a post-apocalyptic novel?!
He relied on the rent of the two buildings to live a happy and free life, and his favorite grilled chicken…

But all of them will be gone!
Fortunately, the golden finger fell from the sky, and he became the lord of the city.

Since then, anywhere he had waved his hand had many houses, vast farmland, roaring factories, and rising technology…
Song Xingcheng not only once again lived a beautiful life of collecting rent and receiving soft hands but he also grabbed a man who can cook chicken!

***

He Qianshan: My skill of making grilled chicken is inherited from my ancestors, come to my bowl soon ~

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My SuperVillain System: Building Legion of SSS-Ranked SuperHeroinesChapter 34 - Ytrisia’s Suspicion
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“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.

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The cat cafe was poorly managed and on the verge of closing down, there were only two to three real kittens.

Pei Shiyi fed the kittens and set a small goal for himself: for example, first, become the best cat cafe in this city. So a year later, a cat cafe called Xian Chan rose to prominence.

The Jin Hua cat that practiced Daoism for hundreds of years became a fat orange cat.

The Bi An came here and became a golden British shorthair.

The lively and active leopard cat was a real leopard.

It also came with a fluff-obsessed, non-human Director of Administration. After sniffing* the fat orange cat, the leopard cat and the ragdoll, he even began sniffing* Pei Shiyi.

The fluffy Pei Shiyi, who was a real phoenix: Do you want to die?

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MTL - The Void Lord’s Path To Planar ConquestChapter 288 End of the book
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Void plane: synonymous with terror and taboo, no one knows how big the void is, because it is growing every moment, and anyone who talks about the void will be shocked.

Void Lords: The voices of the Void plane, the plane’s invaders, conquerors and destroyers; they lead the Void’s armies all the way to war, and when they discover a new plane, they will do everything possible to pull it into the Void embraced by the Void’s reward.

QQ group: 853231441

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