The Truth of Magic - Chapter 656

Living carefree at home is the greatest shortcut—- My house is the world’s greatest magic power spot, that being the case both my house and I were summoned to another world by some guys who were aiming for it. However, I’ve been living in this place for many years and my body is, apparently, abnormally overflowing with magic. Due to some unforeseen circumstances by those guys who summoned me, they quickly ran away. Be that as it may, there are some ill-mannered people who covet the magic leaking out of my house. I won’t give up my house to those people! I’m going to wield my power as I please!

“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.

Lu Yao accidentally stumbled upon a pixelated game where he played the role of a deity, only to discover that this game connected to different dimensions.The 'sacrifices' in the game would manifest in reality, and the 'blessings' he bestowed could also reach the game world.As an apprentice deity, his options were limited to creating various natural disasters.That is, until he reluctantly revived a supermodel apostle, and the gameplay underwent a slight change...

Have you ever wondered about unpredictable life?

One minute everything is so good and then suddenly the next minute everything just turns around…

Anya Owen faced such times thrice in her life due to one person. Twice she survived and started leading a happy life with her darling son.

But could she survive the jeopardy he was going to cause again in her life?

Alvin Matthews, the most mysterious man in the city. Nobody knows where he is, what is up to, or what he does. Some even doubt if he is alive or dead.

Could he stop himself from falling for the little feisty woman?

Well, he never stops himself. But he doubted if he would get killed by the stone-hearted woman before he could soften her heart.

~~~

Excerpt:

Alvin watched Anya politely speaking with the butler. He leaned back on the armchair and crossed his legs, intently watching the soft smiles appearing on the delicate face.

“Hey, Little Chipmunk, why is your mother good to all but me?” He asked shifting his eyes on the little man who was crossing his little legs playing a video game on his mobile.

A sly smirk appeared on Zane’s face. He carelessly threw his words, “That’s what you deserve, Chipmunk Monster.”

Alvin: “...”

Alvin has to rack his brain to appease Little Monster... Correction, Little Master and his Devil… The second Correction, his Queen.