Antagonist Protection Service - Chapter 202 - No Tolerance For Instability

[WARNING THIS NOVEL IS A SEX NOVEL WHICH INCLUDES SEX CONTENT][Author Note: I have changed the story entirely]Arthur's head hurt like crazy as he woke up. He kept his eyes closed, rubbing his temples and feeling a super comfy bed under him - definitely not his cheap mattress back home.“What the hell...?” he mumbled as he finally looked around.He was in some rich person's bedroom with a fancy four-poster bed and red silk sheets. Sunlight came through pretty stained glass windows, making red patterns on the marble floor.Everything screamed royalty - fancy mirrors, portraits of hunting scenes, and even a painting of a barely-dressed goddess that seemed to be watching him.“How did I get here?” Arthur wondered, getting out of bed. “I definitely drank too much at Mark's party last night”The last thing he remembered was almost getting hit by a car while crossing the street.Looking in a mirror, he got another shock. He didn't look like himself at all! Instead of being skinny with acne scars, he now had muscles, clear skin with just one cool scar on his jaw, with a reddish brown hair, and green eyes.“Damn, I'm hot,” he said, touching the scar.For a moment, he remembered his old life. He pushed up his glasses. Kids made fun of him. Jessica laughed at him when he asked her out. “Like I'd be with a loser like you,” she told him.Suddenly Arthur realized what was happening. “I've been transported to another world! Just like in those stories online!”He spun around excitedly. “I must be someone important here. This is gonna be so cool! Watch out, fantasy world, your new hero has arrived!”Right then, blue text appeared floating in front of him:[System Starting Up...][Host Found: Prince Arthur Lionheart][Soul Check: Person from Another World][Magic Type: Incubus Powers Activated]“Incubus?” Arthur asked in shock. “Like, those demons that seduce people?”[That's right. Your family's magic has changed because of your Earth soul's hidden desires. Congrats on finding your true potential.]“Can I change it? I want to be a cool battle wizard or something!”[Not possible. Your soul has permanently connected to the Incubus powers. Accept it - your charm is your weapon, attraction is your shield.]“Fuck,” Arthur groaned.[Exactly. The more sexual intimacy you have, the stronger you'll become.]Arthur's eye twitched. “Very funny. Just... tell me what I can actually do.”

My name is Lü Jincheng, there are quite a few who have seen my works, and they call me Boss Lü.Before he had time to properly say goodbye, the top player Boss Lü is reborn in 2014, back to his youth.Suddenly equipped with a masterful skill in wooing women, his career becomes effortlessly successful.In a hedonistic life, there remains only the desire to do as one pleases.This book is also known as 'How to Break Free from the Shackles of Intimate Relationships' and 'Boss Lü’s Life is Destined to be Without Regrets' among others.

With a marriage contract forcefully done, he married her, and all she could do was comply, and resent him deeply for that and for all the following misunderstandings they faced, and she understood too late she loved him.

But after a life of misfortunes, she’s reborn to the very beginning, the day he told her they were married, and she was determined to cherish him in her second life!

Lin Mu Mu’s life goal is to : grow flowers and plants, and take care of Yun Ting.

Yun Ting’s life principles are : Love Lin Mumu, Love Lin Mumu, Love Lin Mumu!

- 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.