I’m the Evil Lord of an Intergalactic Empire! - Chapter 6Book 12: : Banfield Territory Defense (1)

Transmigrating to the perilous High Martial World, Su Mu has dedicated half his life to diligent efforts, but due to mediocre talent, he has not progressed an inch in ten years, remaining a Second Level Martial Artist.On his birthday, feeling troubled, he plans to drown his sorrows in alcohol until an unusual sound echoes in his mind.“Ding!”[Superpower Refresh System successfully loaded!][Every month, a Spirit Stone can be consumed to randomly refresh a superpower!]

(1v1, pure and sweet) Xiliang’s Prince Residence.With a tiger-like energy and at just 5 years old, Little Prince Xiao Moxi saw his mother dash off to the fields again, and his steamed bun-like face scrunched up in frustration.Looking grievously at his father beside him, he complained with an air of worldly wisdom, “Father, how did you fall for my mother, who likes to run off all the time?”Xiao Yeyang gave his precociously mature son a sidelong glance, then pretended to ponder the question.Indeed, why had he fallen for that woman?After a long silence…“Who knows? Maybe I got my head caught in a door!”Sharing a look of mutual commiseration, father and son let out a helpless sigh in unison.What do you do when you’re stuck with a woman who’s never at home?There’s only one thing to do with your own Princess Consort (mother)—spoil her, of course!…Transported to ancient times with a space filled with rice flowers, all she wanted was to quietly live out her life in the fields. Unexpectedly, with a father who was a county magistrate, she was forced to leave the countryside for the city!Life in the city was bustling with activities, and in order to have a say at home, she bought estates, grew flowers and medicinal herbs, and developed high-yield, high-quality grain varieties. Remarkably, she helped her father, who had been a county magistrate for nine years, to rise step by step, bringing the lowborn Yan Family into Beijing’s elite circles!This is a story of a noble daughter from a humble family aiding her clan to thrive and prosper, and a sweet love story of mutual success and growing together!Male lead: In front of others, he is the prideful Little Prince, the domineering Prince of Xiliang. In front of the female lead, he is a soft and tender-hearted man.Female lead: Clearheaded in all matters, warm-hearted and self-reliant!

“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.

The system says that curing a person will get good doctor points, and killing a person will get bad doctor points. When the 100 points are reached, the skills of good doctors or bad doctors will be randomly selected.

Why do I always feel that bad doctors are better than good doctors…

Nani?

Does the captain’s orange count as a bad doctor’s skill?

You lie here and don’t move, I’m going to buy some oranges.

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