Anti-War Game: Starting from Normandy Campaign - Chapter 11: Remastered Game CG

This novel is also known as Reborn In Space: Pampering The Genius Doctor And Businesswoman

In her past life, she had no one to rely on and died alone in jail.

But now, she has been reborn, given a second chance.

Got an heirloom.
Activated a mystical Space Dimension.
Studied medicine and became a genius doctor.
Opened a clinic.
Founded a company.
Bought a house and land.
Found her blood relatives.
Her worth became higher and higher.
Her fan club became bigger and bigger.

“Young master, the Zhao family’s young master faked an illness and went to future young miss’s place for treatment. . .” said a servant.

“Break his legs! Fail his organs! A fake illness? I’ll make him sick completely!” A man said.

“Yes! But young master. . . what are you doing?” The servant said, confused.

The man finished swallowing a bunch of expired pills and said, “I’m sick, gotta go find my wife for some treatment!”

- Description from Novelupdates

“Haunted by the Curse's relentless pursuit, one seeks solace in the arms of darkness...”-- -- --Hael Winterlock, the youngest and most beloved prince of the Winterlock dynasty, lived the typical luxurious prince life within the dynasty, with the thought of being just an ordinary rich royal member in the future.But when he awakened the never-before-seen Nine Magical Arcana Runes petals, the law of the Kingdom automatically dictates him as the next ruler of the throne, something that goes against his predetermined fate.And from thereon, life came crashing down for Hael, who had his father killed by his throne-obsessed brothers, and then he himself burnt to coal and flung into the icy depths to drown to death.Just when life seemed over, Hael found a portal and a moon fragment, a rumored source of controllable power at the depth of the sea, and the moon fragment fused with him as he disappeared into the strange portal.There was a new advanced world, a world where an ongoing war between humans who grew with cybernetic fusions, and the Eldritches, creatures of dark magic, raged on.Once more, he was given a chance to change things, a new chance at life.One day, he swore to return to back to Winterfall Dynasty to take what was rightfully his. But only if his dreams could be reality. The Forgotten Realms had another name:The Abyssal Realm of Ruins, a Place of No Return!

The daughter of Prime Minister is a nympho?

The brutish Prince is her husband?

The stroppy Princess wants to kick her husband off the marriage sedan?!

“Shit! I want a divorce!”

“Why?!”

“You can’t satisfy me in bed!”

The next day, Prince Chennan becomes the laughingstock of the whole Kingdom of Dayue.

How Hua Yueling, the Stroppy Princess with a soul from 21st century, will create her legendary story in this ancient world?

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.