Rise of the Unfavored Princess - Chapter 112

The beauty and the taboo existing together.Unattainable and unacceptable.An existence only to be admired from afar.A hero of legends but a also a girl of tragedy.Shining like a star in the sky, all alone, forever…-But that’s too sad isn’t it?Our MC, an ordinary middle aged man, is an author that wrote books and after pouring 2 years of hard work in a book, his hardwork finally bore fruit as his book got the second prize in the regional awards.A fruit that he couldn't eat.Why?Because he along with hard work, he also poured his piss somewhere he shouldn't and died.Exactly how?Read the prologue, and you will find out~But of course, that's only the start, as the next time he woke up...He was in another world.

Young Master Lu says, “My wife knows nothing at all and has a bad temper. You’d better not bully her.” Gu Mang watches silently as this man warns everyone who comes his way.

Working in a big factory for several years, Wang An, who was prematurely aging, accidentally obtained a cheat that can earn experience. The improvement of his skills brought him unexpected surprises.

It turns out that some things are not just legends.

Lightness kung fu can really make people walk on the snow without a trace, and fly over the walls.

Vajra is not broken, it can indeed produce the power of vajra, and become the body of vajra, invulnerable to swords and guns.

Congenital qi, grasping iron into mud

 …

Brushing experience does not rely on simple repetition, but requires continuous learning, summarization, and comprehension.

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.