Miracle Doctor Abandoned Daughter The Sly Emperor's Wild Beast-Tamer Empress - Chapter 641: Treatment? Sucking with the Mouth?

There once was a boy who was an orphan and suffered abuse from his village residents. The only friend he had was the dummy scarecrow on the field, whom he talked to. One day, a wealthy man brutally beat the boy. The next morning, the wealthy man was found dead, and the scarecrow was covered in blood. Terrified, the villagers were convinced that the scarecrow had come to life to avenge its tormented friend. And it was the last scarecrow ever placed again in the fields, considering it a sign of death. — After scarecrow dolls begin appearing in the streets of Riddleford next to murder victims, the town is thrown into chaos.When the hunt for the mystery scarecrow murderer begins, it is only a matter of time before the famous Frontier Hall Opera House employees are subjected to suspicion, each protecting a secret of their own. But is that all that is going on? Or is there something unseen?

Doomsday was approaching…

The story centers on Adam, a young man living a life of extreme hardship. Betrayed and cast out by his own family at a young age, he is forced to survive on the streets, working grueling, low-paying jobs just to make ends meet. His existence is a constant struggle against poverty and despair.Everything changes when Adam discovers a mysterious application on his smartphone. This app has a single, reality-altering function: every time he taps the screen, one dollar is instantly deposited into his bank account.At first, Adam uses the app to solve his immediate problems—buying food and securing a place to live. But as he taps his way from hundreds to thousands, and then to millions of dollars, his ambition and vision expand exponentially. He transitions from a destitute outcast to a global magnate, creating a business empire that astounds the world.People point in awe and say, “Look, that's Adam's mobile company,” as they admire the most high-tech smartphones on the market. They marvel at sleek, futuristic cars on the road, remarking, “That car is from Adam's company.” His influence even reaches for the stars, with observers noting, “That new rocket company? Adam started that too.”

“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.