Hail the King - Chapter 1239.1: I Need to Unite the Continent (Part One)

As soon as Luo Yan graduated, he immediately got an offer from a prestigious gaming company. He thought all his hard work finally paid off. And he would finally reach the pinnacle of life. But then, on his first day of work, a potted plant fell on his head and he died.

Surprisingly, when he thought he would cross the Yellow River, he suddenly woke up and found himself in the body of a 17 year old boy. This body had the same name as him but completely different background. Because the original was the second young master of the Luo family - one of the most powerful family in S City.

Luo Yan almost cried. God probably took pity on him and decided to give him a loving family with a wealthy background. He didn't have to work hard anymore. Studying like his life depended on it and pretending to be a holy father just to cater to people.

So Luo Yan decided to be a salted fish and just shamelessly sell meng.


A certain male god who always bought Luo Yan's meng: Yan Yan is so cute! Why is Yan Yan so cute??

Cold faced on the outside, a cinammon roll on the inside Gong X Super beautiful, black-belly Shou.


Cover art belongs to the respective owner. :)



Twitter: @tyramisu_wn
IG: @tyramisu_novels
Discord: Tyramisu#9858
Buy me coffee? https://ko-fi.com/tyramisu

Swordmaster Karyl MacGovern.

He returned to the past, wanting to rewrite the future he was unable to change with his sword alone. And this time, he would acquire the power that once eluded him—magic.

This time, he would master both sword and magic, and stand on the peak.

Frascoia Continent… Various races like Celestials, Demons, Humans, Monsters, Elves, Dwarves, and so on occupied this continent.

Humans and the other races lived on the mainland of the continent while the Celestials and Demons lived in Heaven and Purgatory, respectively.

Within the Demons, a prodigy named Azaroth rose quickly, even by demons' standards, to the point of being dubbed a Demon God. There was only one person above him within the demons: The Great Demon Venerable, the Demons' Supreme Godfather.

Azaroth's extraordinary talent never had the chance to blossom to its full potential; a terrible calamity struck him down and he died soon after. But was this calamity just misfortune or was it hiding an opportunity for him?

Near his deathbed, he prepared for his future ascent to achieve his lofty goal.

Millions of years had passed after Demon God Azaroth's demise and now a young aristocrat called Edwin Rhodes came across a mysterious cave.

“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.