I Secretly Develop Myself In The Demon World - Chapter 767 - 402 Space Rift

Lady Bertia, who’s become my fiancée, is a bit odd. On our first meeting, she proclaimed herself a villainess noble girl who’s been reincarnated and said that she’s working hard every day to become a splendid flower of evil that’s elegantly put in her place.

I don’t get it.

But she entertains me because I don’t understand.

That’s why I think I’ll observe her for a while.

This is a story of a crown prince who’s so talented and handsome that he’s grown bored of his easy-mode life. A story of this prince observing a self-proclaimed villainess noble girl (who seems perfect at first but is a bit off) who’s become his fiancée as she snatches flags and breaks them into pieces.

He was once the most feared villain in the empire, a master of manipulation who wove chaos from the shadows. Ruthless, untouchable—until the day he was betrayed and executed by the very man he sought to control.But death is not the end.He awakens in the body of Lady Elara Valcrest, a fragile noble girl doomed to be a pawn in political games. Stripped of her former power, she is forced into an arranged marriage with none other than Cairon Everhart—the man who once killed her. He does not recognize her, but she knows him. And she will never forget.To survive, Elara must play a new game. One where deception is her only weapon, and trust is a dangerous illusion. She must outmaneuver her enemies, uncover the truth behind her execution, and reclaim the power she lost. But as she navigates the treacherous world of court intrigue, one question lingers—Was Cairon truly her greatest enemy? Or had she been blind to an even greater threat?Time is running out. The villain has been given one last chance. And this time, she refuses to lose.

Jeanne was only 18 years old when her stepmother and step sister framed her and caused her to lose everything. She was thrown out of the house by her father for trying to resist.

7 years later, Jeanne came back for vengeance with a mysterious son by her side—George.

People mocked her for being a single mother and called her son a fatherless child.

“Who are you calling a fatherless child? You wouldn’t like me when I’m mad,” George threatened.

“Lay low, George! Don’t ruin the fun! I haven’t had enough,” Jeanne said as she wanted to enjoy her revenge, leaving the boy speechless.

Jeanne later met the infamous Fourth Master Swan at a charity ball. The man with the handsome looks and cold temperament called her to a corner and said, “I like you.”

Everyone was shocked, including Jeanne.

“I’m a single mother and I have a child. Are you sure you like me?” she said.

“I actually… like your child!”

Everyone else was shocked when Fourth Master Swan married Jeanne but only his sly self knew that he had gotten not one, but two, important players to this chess game that he was playing.

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?