Coiling Dragon - Book 20 – The Crown’s Riddle - Chapter 9 – Bonin

This book is also known as ’Because I Spoiled My Wife Too Much, I Was Forced to Become an Invincible Antagonist.’ Gu Lan transcended into a fantasy novel as a supporting scholar. He even gained a beautiful and delicate wife. He had initially planned to live quietly, avoiding all kinds of trouble based on the original plot, and spending his life peacefully with his beloved wife. But he happened to acquire the ’Read and Copy Books System’! As long as he read and copied books, he could extract cultivation, becoming a saint and even a deity! Due to being overly invincible, Gu Lan casually crushed major antagonists when he ventured outside. Sons and daughters of fortune were eager to acknowledge him! As his strength skyrocketed, his career went surprisingly smoothly as well. One day, Gu Lan, the top scholar from the high school examination, entered the palace and saw a stunning empress behind the curtain, who looked very familiar! “Babe?” “Darling, don’t you not recognize me when I put on the dragon robe?” “...” From that day on, the whole world knew about this extraordinary couple. The original male protagonist: “He’s already a Heavenly Emperor, and I’m just at the third stage of martial power. How am I going to compete?”

When the night came, there was a twittering sound in his ears, and the monster in the shadow began to move restlessly. Jason’s hungry stomach began to roar, and he couldn’t help swallowing saliva. Hunger is the best spur.

Red-Outlaw follows the story of Yokais that are in the Race to become the next King as the Late king died. The story folds many deep mysterious, arcs and Adventure of Yokais and who will become the next Yokai King.

“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.