Everyone Else is a Returnee - Chapter 16 I Make Them (3)

Song Yan lived a miserable life. She was born with a great fortune but her ‘ luck ‘ was ‘ snatched ‘ by her half sister . It was her fortune that she was fated to marry Fu Yusheng , the Ceo and owner of the Fu corporations . However , her half sister who was jealous of intercepted in her fate and snatched her ‘ good luck ‘ away , from then on Song Yan faced countless troubles , she met with accidents , lost her scripts and finally died after meeting a road accident .

But she was unwilling , unwilling because she loved Fu Yusheng and her son whom she left behind in the Fu family . Her soul that should have scattered and brought to Hell in front of King Yama , turned into a vicious ghost .

Only after becoming a ghost did she realise what kind of perfect deception her half sister has planned for her .

Luckily before her soul could become any more dark and become a malevolent spirit , she crosses path with a Celestial master who promises her a fresh start as long as she stays with him and learns the way of supernatural . So , Song Yan became the Celestial master’s disciple and continued to serve the Celestial master and his family as a Ghost .

After five hundred years of service , she is freed by her master and get a chance to rebirth .

She is reborn on the day she met with the car accident .

In this life she is endowed with supernatural power to see the celestial truths .

She vows to avenge herself and her son who met an unfortunate death because of her half sister .

But why is her apathetic husband who never cared about her , coming after her ?

She killed his wife, destroyed his reputation, and ran off with his son. 8 years later, she returned home with her genius son, who already had a fiancée. “Give me the child, or you can’t afford the price.”“A girl who eats meat and vegetables doesn’t suffer, if you want a child, find yourself a woman to give you one.”

A next-generation virtual online game, a hardcore gamer, a glitch that shouldn’t have existed… By sheer coincidence, Meng Jingtian ended up being the sole player god in a game. Thus, while ordinary players worked themselves to death running missions for NPCs to win their favor, NPCs prostrated before him! While ordinary players almost vomited blood grinding for gear so that they could solo bosses, the king of divine beasts kneeled before him, willing to offer its life and worship him. And while players went to suicidal lengths to trigger random events and lucky encounters, transcendent beings came to find him so that they could offer their precious treasures as tribute.

“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.