Legend of the Empyrean Blacksmith - Chapter 2

Marianne, a talented curator at a museum, caught the attention of Mrs. Chaterine Ganke, a painting enthusiast who was also a very wealthy lady. The lady liked Marianne so much that she insisted her grandson, Leonardo Ganke, to marry her. Leon didn't love Marianne, but he couldn't refuse his grandmother's request.

On the night of her wedding, Marianne was insulted by her husband.

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? Ugly girl, don't expect you to sleep in the same bed with me!!!” Leon shouted to Marianne in contempt.

Dark Girl X Cold Ruthless CEO Dad: A Story of RedemptionHuo Ning accidentally transmigrates into a female-oriented novel, becoming the pitiful daughter of the story’s antagonist.Before her arrival, this poor little girl was not only ab*sed by her birth mother but also treated as a plaything by her mother’s boyfriend, ultimately dying on a snowy night.The antagonist in the book is no pushover either. Used as a plot device by the original author, he’s solely focused on breaking up the main couple, ultimately meeting an accidental death.Huo Ning can’t stand by and watch. She not only latches onto the antagonist for protection but also helps him escape the protagonist’s plot armor, even personally sending their enemies to prison.Relying on her own abilities, she gradually changes the antagonist’s storyline while healing the original character’s trauma.Just when she thinks things are moving towards a brighter future, she unexpectedly finds herself in trouble…

“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.

[Warning: The title might be named this way, but we’re actually NOT on hiatus.]I’m a third-rate writer, Yu Il-Shin.So don’t think that I’m actually a god; it’s just a name.One day, I experienced the much-anticipated awakening, but my newfound skill was… kinda weird?…In the small world connected through my mobile phone where the little, weak ants were getting killed regarded me as their god?