Virtual World: Close Combat Mage - Chapter 727 - Infiltrating Neutral Players

Shen Sui’an penetrated into a book of dog-blooded beauty and became the white moonlight of early death that four scumbags could not seek.
He tore up the script, took his lover into the Imperial Marshal’s Palace, drank tea every day, basked in the sun, rua rua seriously injured the unconscious plant lion, and by the way teased the soldier orphans adopted by the Gu family – a group of plush cubs , the days were pretty cool.
As a result, one day, the plant lion suddenly woke up, returned to human form, and blocked him in the corner.
The man’s face is handsome, his physique is strong, and he has been in the top position for a long time, giving people a strong sense of oppression.
At this moment, his brows and eyes were downcast, revealing a pitiful meaning for no reason, “When I was in a coma, I said that I liked me the most. I finally woke up. Why do you only play with those little cubs?”
Shen Sui’an: “…”
***
Overhearing the big lion that turned into a human shape discussing a proposal for marriage, Shen Sui’an was struck by thunder and ran away all night in fright.
A few days later, there was a knock on the door, and the big lion squatted obediently, with a wooden sign hanging around his neck: Homeless, seeking adoption.
Seeing that Shen Suian was unmoved, it lay down silently, its tail hooked on Shen Suian’s hand and pressed against its soft belly.
The wooden sign was turned over, revealing the following line: touch my stomach, be responsible for me.
Shen Sui’an: Hello, the Imperial Police Station? There are lions touching porcelain here!

Playful plush control is attacked by x stuffy big lion

Content tags: Interstellar sweet text cool text cute pet
Search keywords: Protagonist: Shen Sui’an ┃ Supporting role: Gu Beimo ┃ Others:
One sentence introduction: Eating melons and watching dramas, rua lions, cool!
Purpose: to break through the predicament and move towards a better life

- Description from novelbuddy

Luo Qing Chen is a wandering spirit that died thirty thousand years ago, roaming the Chaos Space

In order to not turn into dust, she is bound by an ice cold system to travel through time and space to complete missions.

Girls that pretend to be weak?  Slap them without explaining.

A silly cannon fodder?  Helping them amass treasures.

Meeting a real male god?  All of them will pamper.

System: Dear masters, what do I do if my host even dares bully the heavens?  Waiting for an answer, it’s urgent!

A certain male god: Change systems.

System: ヽ〔?Д?〕丿

- Description from Novelupdates

Cliche. Another monster progression story. That was probably what you thought when you read the title of my story. And, I can't lie, for the most part, it probably is.But, what else am I supposed to do when I've been thrusted into a world that could kill me in an instant? There's nothing to do but to progress, to devour and evolve. You would do the same too.Such is the basis of a monster.Such is the right of any living being.So that's what I did. I ate, I killed and I hoarded anything I could get my big limbs on. Friendship, allies and love? There used to be a little god calling himself “Heaven's Equal” who spouted of such things, before I ate him. The world went pretty quiet after that.Follow my story. Read for yourself how I evolved from a little monster in a lake I thought was the ocean, all the way into the Titan Of Destruction.What To Expect:- A relatively quick progression story- Ruthless, I mean - Fang Yuag levels - of ruthless protagonist.- A system? that grows stronger along with the protagonist- Big Monsters Duking It Out, with minimal humans/beastmen/elves, etc. . .focus. Basically, monsterverse without annoying ass humans ruining the show.- Did I mention that the protagonist was pretty evil?

“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.