Miracle Doctor Abandoned Daughter The Sly Emperor's Wild Beast-Tamer Empress - Chapter 642: I Will Take Responsibility for the Past, Present and Future of Her

Blue Star has entered the extraordinary era, everything is evolving, and monsters are rampant.

Humans awaken their star souls in evolution to fight against raging monsters.

Zhou Xuan, who was doing odd jobs in the Demon Town Tower, accidentally awakened to an unscientific sign-in system.

Sign in on the ancient desolate beast and gain the power of the wild. Sign in on the weed spirit, and the star soul evolves into the nine-leaf sword grass.

The thousand-year black turtle, the ten thousand-year sea king, the immortal true phoenix, and the sky-swallowing dragon have all become the targets of his registration.

There are countless monsters in the Demon Suppressing Tower, Zhou Xuan signed in silently, and if he was not careful, he would be invincible.

The world was destroyed, the apocalypse descended, a new era began, and the right to survive as a Lord was granted to every person.Domains, Heroes, Troops, Treasures, Resources—all of the countless servers constructed by the myriad continents were opened up.Qin Muye looked at his panel, which was akin to cannon fodder, and his domain with its damaged suffix, and felt a strong urge to cry but no tears would come.No divine talent, no hidden hints, no overpowered Profession.“If that's the case, then I'll just have to adapt and live in a different way.”

He was a wealthy and mysterious financial backer who had appeared before her when she needed money the most. After the courtship, she took the money and left.

“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.