A Billion Dollar Exchange - Chapter 70: I dumped her boyfriend twice

The emaciated old man with an alien-like appearance grinned maliciously, while the young girl cried and howled.“Worm, worm, worm, worm, worm, worm...”Countless worms surged towards the girl like a tide, seemingly intent on devouring her completely.The girl instinctively closed her eyes and let out a desperate wail.“Someone... save me!”A breathtaking beam of light cut through the dimness, dispelling the girl's fear and the swarm of worms that filled her vision. Accompanied by a voice that was young but carried a hint of sunshine.“It's okay, I'm here. Big brother is here to protect you.”The boy with purple hair and purple eyes held a scythe in his hand, blocking in front of the girl, and issued a declaration of death to the old man.“You deserve to die, Zouken Matou. No, Makiri Zolgen!”

This is a peaceful village without so many disturbances.

Until one day, a young man named Dong Qing awakened the mutated martial spirit Tianjiao Ant,

This peaceful village has become less peaceful,

After some years.

“This planet tastes really good.”

After some years.

“The taste of this plane is really good.”

After some years.

“This universe smells really good.”

Countless billions of years later.

“Brother, you also like to eat so much!”

“yes!”

“What’s your name?”

“shortage”

- Description from novelbuddy

Being adored by one's parents and hoping to achieve something that could bring them happiness, a child sacrificed their carefree personality and chose the path of books and knowledge at an early age.Without looking back to see how those they thought were their parents were, in truth, only pushing them from behind.Esme, a prodigy from an early age, excelled in everything, unlike her sister, who, though adored by both parents, always lagged behind.Finally, after saving the company from debts and restoring it to its former glory, Esme looked back at her parents in hope of recognition but...“You are not even my daughter, you pathetic fool.”“Hehe, Sister, how about I take your fiancé?”“Um, you see, Esme, I love your sister.”“Tch, insect, how dare you reject checks whenever I, your mother, asked for money!”Those words lingered in Esme's mind before she lost consciousness and woke up inside a prison.“What are you doing here, Aron?” Esme looked at a handsome young man seated in a wheelchair, gazing at her with amusement. He was her sole business competitor, and now, he was visiting her in prison.“Nothing, just came here for a proposal, Miss Esme...”Let's see what awaits the journey of an heiress who was wrongly accused of being fake, betrayed by her fiancé, and had to seek support from her business rivals.

“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.