Fourth Scourge of Star Wars - Chapter 939: Is It Normal For A Disciple To Scold Their Master?

Growing up parentless, Shi Yan, who was left with a large inheritance money, bore a general disinterest in life.

The only times he felt alive was when adrenaline coursed thorough his veins. He quickly found that extreme sports, bungyjumping, cave diving & skydiving, gave him the biggest kicks. The bigger the adrenaline kick, the closer he was to death, the more alive he felt.

Waking up in a pile of dead bodies in an unknown land, after a diving adventure had ended disastrously, he quickly realizes the body he now possessed was not his own.

Follow Shi Yan as he explores this new world where danger lurks around every corner, and death is only a breath away; a world in which Shi Yan could not feel any more alive.

- Description from novelupdates

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.

- Description from novelbuddy

Ein was a hitman on hire. A killer, a shadow, a death with insomnia, if you may.He had witnessed countless pairs of eyes dim as the light of life faded, leaving nothing but vile hollowness. Needless to say, the sight of a soul popping out of the dead body was a first.And it wasn't just any soul. It was the dead heir of Byers Holdings, the same guy he killed with his own hands. Turns out the rich boy Adriel had a horribly irritating and loud soul, but worst of it all - impossible to get rid of.Who would have thought that killing on a blue moon night could lead to being haunted?

“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.