First Stygian Diviner:Apocalypse - Chapter 249 Just Like Sheep

A female military doctor was reborn in ancient times when she encountered a drought and was fleeing famine. Her grandfather was a scumbag and her grandmother was a poisoner. She wanted to sell her whole family for food.

Gu Jinli said: It’s not a big deal, let’s deal with Mr. Zha’s evil mother first, then find water in exchange for food, and lead the whole family through the famine.

“I fled the famine and settled down in Dafeng Village. It’s hard for outsiders to mix in and they are oppressed in various ways. How can I overcome this?”

Gu Jinan said: It doesn’t matter, brother, I am a big shot in the imperial examination.

Life is going on in a pleasant way, but there are wars and disasters everywhere. Gu Jinli flips the table. This girl just wants to farm and fight. Get out!

The little brother I picked up while escaping from famine: Madam, don’t panic, your husband is a madman on the battlefield. He rebelled against the marquis. I will protect your ten thousand acres of medicine fields and live in peace for the rest of your life.

PS: A slap-in-the-face, torture-for-farming story, the male and female protagonists are clean physically and mentally, 1V1 dotes on each other, and has a happy ending. [The heroine does not practice medicine, but only uses medical knowledge to make a fortune^0^]

Keywords of the novel: Rebirth of the Little Lucky Wife from Farmers without pop-ups, Rebirth of Little Lucky Wife from Farmers txt full set download, Rebirth of Little Lucky Wife from Farmers latest chapter reading

- Description from novelbuddy

After losing his parents to an accident, Haruto is thrust into a state of depression. Realizing he never had the power to change things, he eventually took his own life. Before moving on, he’s selected by beings greater than his understanding to balance out a world suddenly facing peril. The world of Mordell, where demon-like creatures and beasts roam, and Guilds of ability users called Warlords are the force to combat these creatures. Armed with the power to change things, he has the choice. Continue living in despair or accept his second chance and become a true Warlord.

Rick hardly had any hope to find a girlfriend. There were swarms of beautiful women around him, but no one was actually interested in a dull, boy like him. They didn't even pay attention to his existence.

But everything changed when he was handed over a rod. Yes, a metal rod. Carrying that metal rod he had hardly taken a few steps when he was struck by lightening.

As he lost consciousness, Rick wanted to beat the shit out of bloody bastard who gave him that rod, but when he woke up, he had a surprise waiting. He got a system which would help him get girls and make him stronger.

Read my other story: The Devil's Harem (200+ chapters)

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“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.