Hellbound With You - Chapter 883 Log

He died on the wedding of the girl he had a crush on, after a long and successful career. After convincing Yama to send him back to the world, he decides to fix the areas in which his life went wrong. Realizing the lack of love and romance in his past life, he sets out to conquer the hearts of various women.

[Shuangqiang, sweet pet, 1v1]

A very distinguished person has come to the west city.

The mysterious man Rong Wuye is ascetic and dignified, ruthless and crazy, unparalleled in power and wealth, but he is also a well-known and unfeminine flower in the business world.

“Follow Fifth Master to keep you safe.”

“That mountain, and the three mountains connected to it, are all our private domain.”

“I don’t even intend to give my name to Lao Tzu? I’m sorry!”

He pushed her against the corner, “Little thing is misbehaving, how should I be punished?”

…

Nanhuang was reborn and found that she had become Ye Nanhuang, a woman whose marriage was not going well.

A cold divorce agreement was thrown in front of her. She took the agreement, signed it quickly, and left.

Stupid scumbag, sister don’t want it!

“Ye Nanhuang is a divorced woman.”

“Ye Nanhuang knows nothing but painting.”

“Have you heard? She is barren.”

The powerful and overlord of the imperial city, Rong Wuye, came all the way to the west city, and put his arms around her slender waist.

“Little thing, marry me, huh?”

- Description from novelbuddy

Somehow, the protagonist Kim Jin possessed a rich pushover extra in a novel who was exploited by the villainess and then met their demise together.But there’s no way Kim Jin would let that happen! He immediately defeated the villainess and locked her away. After that, the only thing left was to steadily enjoy life in this world while investing and extracting profits using his knowledge.But why… the more he punished her, it seemed that the villainess he had captured began to cling to him too much?

“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.