BILLIONAIRE'S LOVE - Chapter 707: I want to Protect Martin.

Xu Jin simply bowed a few times in front of the nine star lanterns and came to this world that could guide the starlight into his body. Then, he bowed again in front of the nine star lanterns...

Which one would you choose between 700 points and 7 million in the college entrance examination? A few minutes ago, Luo Fan would have chosen the blue capsule without hesitation, and slapped the person who asked this question across the screen, but today this choice actually came true, facing 700 points and…

- Description from novelbuddy

The first phase of the tiran impact lasted for a whole day. Asteroids falling into earth, releasing and spreading strange green gases into the air. This has mutated or should I say, Zombified humans who were infected, Mutated monsters, and alerted alien races about the existence of earth.Those who survived for 24 hours recieved a chance to survive what was to come as that wasn't the end.Dexter was always a person who didn't care about the world. However, becoming a vampire in the apocalypse was something that he never anticipated. But it was a must if he wanted to leave his hiding spot which was surrounded by monster zombies.While restraining himself from giving into his urges to drink blood, he struggles to keep his sanity intact.Time and time again he refuses to become a lawless bloodsucker.Well, he would rise, facing different adversaries and foes, developing from the once weak and feeble human, into a vampire god....Make sure to check out this fl book 'Disguised as a boy to attend Belmont High School'.

“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.