Why must the devil be Defeated? - Chapter 222 - 221 Overconfidence is the most fatal

[Time Travel + Online Shopping Mall + Sweet Petting + Sudden Wealth + Strong Female Lead + Abusive Scum Male Lead]

An Zhi Xia was born and immediately had her identity swapped out. She was harmed by the fake rich miss and her foster parents until no bones remained.

After drifting for a hundred years as a ghost, she watched with her own eyes as the fake rich miss assumed her identity to marry into a prestigious family, achieving success in both career and love. The fake rich miss also angered An Zhi Xia’s birth parents to death, and left her four brothers either dead or disabled.

Upon returning to the 1970s when she was harmed, the hundred-year-old ghost An Zhi Xia decisively counterattacked. She acknowledged her birth parents, drove away the fake rich miss, and sent her foster parents to prison.

Did you think she wanted familial love?

No, she only wanted the villains to pay the price.

But things often go beyond one’s expectations. An Zhi Xia’s big brother doted on her, second brother cherished her, third brother loved her, fourth brother protected her. As for her mother, she was always worried about the fake rich miss, but that no longer mattered. Her grandparents still made the decisions at home and could not be swayed.

In this life, An Zhi Xia wanted to live for herself, make money, and pursue her career. Yet she was secretly being watched by someone.

Pei Jing had a irritable personality but was handsome. After an accident where he was taken advantage of by an ugly woman, he thought he would hate her gritting his teeth. But instead, he unexpectedly fell deeply in love with her, doting on and cherishing her for life.

Zhang Jun joined Shu Guang High School to find that their soccer team are bottom-feeders! What could he do? Who is his beautiful new neighbor? And who is Li Yongle, and why would he declare himself as Zhang Jun’s rival? Youth, romance, and rivalry, all waiting for you in “Would You Mind if I Play?”

Before they got married, Laurent already knew that Dave Washington had another woman in his heart, yet she still chose to marry him because Dave had always been the one she loved. She loved Dave, but his heart belonged to another woman. It was said that this woman loved another man, who happened to be Dave's illegitimate half-brother. Laurent believed that having a child would secure their shaky marriage.Until one day, the woman Dave loved finally told him, “Actually, the person I love is you.”Laurent had devoted her youth and energy to this sensational and messy love story, only to helplessly watch it collapse. Heartbroken, she chose to divorce.She thought Dave's infidelity would make her easily give up on the house, car, and property during the divorce, with the only request being custody of their daughter. But to her surprise, Dave insisted that she was unfit to raise their daughter and refused to give her custody.In order to fight for her daughter, she embarked on a long and exhausting legal battle.She said to him, “You're so persistent—aren't you worried your lover is waiting for you anxiously?”Dave smiled and replied, “If you have time to worry about her, you might as well get a new lawyer.”In a fit of rage, she threw a cup of water in his face. “Dave Washington, you're despicable!”Yes, every lawyer she hired was bought off by him with large sums of money. Finally, disheartened, she gave up custody of their daughter and decided to leave the country to heal.But he sent someone to intercept her at the airport...

“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.