The Number One Star in the Interstellar Era - Chapter 337: [THE SLEEPING GOD] PREMIER (VIII)

There was a prominent old martial arts family which in the hundred years would give birth only to males, never a girl. Finally, one day, a girl was born. She was a tassel blower among ten thousand green groves. Ultimately, she turned into an agile and brave tomboy!

There was also an imperial descendant who his old father had six princesses. His father was just short of a son to inherit the throne. Finally, one day, he got a bastard son who was his youngest child. With countless spoiling, in the end that son was brought up into a universally unmatched egomania!

“Zhen as the nation’s number one beauty, as the nation only first class figure, obviously needs to have a professional bodyguard constantly at our side for protection. That will be you, the iron-willed female King Kong pretending to be a little eunuch.”

- Description from Novelupdates

A century after the Spirit Qi Awakening, the world enters a new era. Humans are able to absorb the world’s awakened spirit qi, allowing them to tread on a new path—spirit qi occupations!

[WARNING: MATURE CONTENT 18+. No rape. No NTR. No Yuri]WebNovel Spirity Awards 2025 EntryPlease note that any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, real world events, or locales is purely coincidental and unintentional. The characters, places, and incidents portrayed in this work of fiction are products of the author's imagination.

“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.