Extra's Death: I Am the Son of Hades - Chapter 584: Evolving Darkness (Lost The Memories But Not The Insanity)

Because of his master’s wine, he had somehow become the husband of a cold CEO — I’m still a virgin, please be gentle. He was from an ancient sect and had both Buddhism and Dao cultivation methods. The youth Qin Wu stepped out of the great mountain once again, stirring up the winds and clouds in the city.

- Description from Novelupdates

When a glorious old civilization was toppled overnight, a strange purple moon rose and thus began the Purple Moon Era.

[The new book “I was forced to become a princess after time travel” seeks collection and investment, the new book has already been listed on the Qingyun list, old readers are welcome to join in]

Jiang Mianmian crossed over,

Arrived in a different world full of giant dragons, became a nobleman disguised as a man, accepted the entrustment of the territory, and began to become a noble lord in a different world to make a fortune and start a petty bourgeois life.

Until one day, drinking water stuck between her teeth, two giant dragons rolled all the way, no, fought, and hit her door.

After a big move, the main city she worked so hard to upgrade and build was knocked back to its original form, and as compensation…

She only picked up a dragon egg? !

Ma Dan! You shitty dragon, are you demolishing the house? ! After dismantling, lay eggs!

Just like this, farming, hatching eggs and pulling the dragon cub until one day the dragon cub grows into a big black gold dragon. How does this dragon look so similar to the one that demolished her house back then? !

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.