Alchemy Emperor of the Divine Dao - Chapter 3972: Trap

There are all sorts of lunatics in the world:Self-centered, reckless, psychotic, impulsive, obsessive, and pe*verted.As far as Suin knows, that man embodied every single one of those traits—an obsessive, pe*verted psycho.And now, that lunatic is back.“Finally, we meet.”“Adult Lee Suin.”He didn’t even try to hide the sticky hunger in his gaze, like a starved lion finally spotting its prey.“A job reassignment?”“I want Lee Suin to help me.”Chairman Woo Ilhwa, unaware of his son’s true intentions, reassigns Suin, his chief secretary, to serve as his son’s personal secretary.This forces Suin into close proximity with the man who’s been preying on her from the shadows.“Wait for me, Lee Suin.”During his eleven years of exile, Jaehee had dreamed of one thing:A proper relationship—not as a restricted minor, but as a full-grown adult.A relationship where he could take what he wanted, whenever and however he pleased.That’s why, even though Suin was as rigid as a steel rod, his sly persistence ignited the spark within him whenever he faced her.“What do you want from me?”“You.”“Lee Suin.”But it seems Suin has been flirting with some bastard behind his back, and Jaehee’s jealousy and obsession explode.“Don’t take a single step.”“Unless you want to see me go completely insane.”What nonsense.You were already insane to begin with.

I had transmigrated into my favorite game, as an extra who died before the story even began.In a world where Sigils dictate power, I found myself in the body of a boy who had already died on the battlefield.Yet, as I drew breath in his place, his Sigil changed. A power never meant for him, never meant for me.Kidnapped by a shadow organization that didn't exist in the game, I spent three years in the dark, forced to learn under a so-called teacher.I move forward, not as the extra I was meant to be, but as one who chooses their own path. A path to supremacy.Yet the deeper I walk, the more I realize… this world holds secrets that game had never shown.-----------------Additional tags:[Sword Companion], [Hidden Identity], [Artifact Power], [Slow Reveal], [Secret Society], [Survival]

Duke Jiu Qiansui, Du Gu Wu, was forced to marry the rejected woman Feng Bailin due to illness, causing an uproar in the court.The princes came to “congratulate”: Although Feng Bailin is ugly, incompetent, and from a declining family, she does not fear his reputation of being a wife-killer and impotent, and even conveniently lets him be a cheap father. Worthy of congratulations.Du Gu Wu, thinking of the talentless, unattractive, and unvirtuous woman, coldly said: After one year, I will divorce.One year later, Du Gu Wu booked the largest restaurant in the world, invited friends to prepare for the divorce.Unexpectedly, the restaurant owner directly offered three days for free, saying it was to celebrate the divorce. When the first beauty who was mingling with heroes from all roads burped, she said: “You think I'm after his body, I just crave his imperial fortune.”After Duke Jiu Qiansui was divorced,In the first month, a plague swept the whole city, and the medical deity appeared, it was actually Feng Bailin.In the second month, famine was everywhere in the country, the richest man provided disaster relief, once again it was Feng Bailin.In the third month, an alliance of nine dynasties besieged the city, and ten thousand beasts defended it, it was still Feng Bailin.In a certain month, Duke Jiu Qiansui traveled across the nine provinces and eight wildernesses to pursue his wife: Ancestor, please let me marry in.The two cute children said in unison: Father King, you have to wait in line!

“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.