Tyrannical Wang's Beloved Wife - Chapter 20: Fortunate Person

Reborn as a Gotham minion and strayed into an evil organization, his heart is bright but he has fallen into darkness step by step. The whole world and even countless worlds are convincing the good guy Mason that it is obviously more promising to become a super villain in this era of disaster.

But Mason didn’t think it was easy to convince himself, so let’s do something simple.

How about we try to bring this dark and chaotic era back on track?

besides!

Batman and the heroes of the Justice League, when are you fucking going to do it? If I don’t close the net, I will go undercover and become the evil boss!

PS:

The real title of this book should be “Crossing the Beautiful Man: I Want to Be a Good Man”, “Gotham Legend: If I Were Robin, Would You Love Me?” “, “One Hundred and Eight Confessions of the Unlimited Traveling through the Worlds for White Whoring Monsters” and “The Tragic Past: From Craftsman Spirit to the No Return of Counterfeit Dealers”

- Description from novelbuddy

Necromancer】, Originating from ancient Europe, these mysterious wizards were often male, knowing how to summon and enslave the souls of the deceased to create undead creatures. Usually, those who practiced this craft had frail bodies, pale complexions, and twisted psyches, shunning and distrusting others. Some, who mastered the art, could even trade their flesh for an immortal Lich’s life. But can someone tell me how to practice the art of necromancy in the 21st century? In a law-abiding society, I can’t even get a skeleton! Misumi Mikoto: Doctor Chen, come quickly and help me examine this body; I can’t find the cause of death! Jounouchi Hiromi: Doctor Chen, come check on this patient first; what exactly is wrong with him?

At Divine Wind Continent, there is cultivation system—douqi, illusion and magic.

Ren Tian You was a fan of Naruto, single carelessness caused him to arrive in different world.

Unexpectedly only to discover within his body possessed Naruto system.

What? You will use douqi! I, your father’s taijutsu is also not weak! Look at my shadow dance!

What? You will use illusions! I, your father however have every illusions’ ancestor, Sharingan! Look at my Tsukuyomi!

What? You are a magician! I, your father am a ninja! Look at my fire style——– grand fireball!

“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.