Captured Hearts: The Substitute Bride's Gambit - Chapter 205 - The Blood Type of Wen Nianyou

There is a kind of person in the world who is indifferent, cool, arrogant, and especially a bit petty. There is also a kind of person who is lazy, gentle, considerate, and even adeptly flirts with girls. When the male god completed a shocking 360 transformation from the former to the latter, Tang Xia’s first reaction was…is this a fantasy world?

- Description from Novelupdates

After Yan Yu’s family read through the book, they discovered that the protagonist of this ancient novel was the original uncle.

They took their uncle to drink blood, were separated early, and were pulled out for a walk at the end of the full text to show how miserable their lives are.

At this time, the plot is going to the point where the cousin is ruined by others, and the uncle comes to the door to reason and is injured. If the wheat in the field is not harvested, it will be desolate. Twelve taels of gambling debt…

When they were at a loss, [Support Trading Platform] was overjoyed.

Supporting trading platform: Connecting multiple dimensions, aiming to help users who are struggling to survive, overcome difficulties and tide over difficulties together.

Whoooo! move! Yes, we are poor!

A family of three: waiting to be separated by fate, self-reliant, and trying to survive.

But he didn’t want to, uncle, he was reborn! ! !

After some consideration, he decided to protect his family and embarked on a completely different path.

Reality: what? No distinction?

- Description from novelbuddy

An accident let him have a special ability to turn back time up to 1 minute. When he said the wrong things in front of his leader, he was able to return back to 1 minute before to correct what he said. During jade stone gambling and there was no jade inside, he turns back time to pick another stone. When the woman he likes met an accident, he can return back to 1 minute before to save her…… A small fry’s rise through the ranks of the government service starts……

“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.