Acquiring Talent in a Dungeon - Chapter 10 - Day 3, 3rd Floor Surprise

In the Immortal Realm, where Immortals roam here and there, and the strength is supreme, there is a kind of existence who are favored by the Heavens.

These existences has their luck attribute boosted by thousands, and are collectively called as the Children of Luck or Son/Daughter of Luck.

Among these, Yu Tian was born with negative luck attributes and was destined to die under those so-called Children of Luck.

However, with the help of the Villain System and the powerful Yu family behind him, he will rewrite his destiny and crush those Sons of Luck and cultivate those Daughter of Luck.

At the beginning, he forced the family of the Daughter of Luck to send her to his bed personally.

# SCANDALOUS GIRLFRIENDZhou Yun was just a newly debuted actress, but because she happened to stay in the same hotel as the top male celebrity, Song Chi, she became “Song Chi's underground girlfriend” that the entire nation had their eyes on. She was now trending on the internet.“She's taking advantage of my big brother's popularity!”“My big brother would never fall for a woman like her!”“Zhou Yun, you should get out of showbiz!”…There were curses all around. Facing such an undeserving calamity, Zhou Yun had a hard time saying anything.At this moment, a stranger suddenly sent her a friend request.He asked, “I heard that you're my girlfriend?”“Who are you?” Zhou Yun asked.He replied, “Song Chi.”

She is a waste daughter from the Su family that couldn’t cultivate. On the day before her wedding, the Third Prince breaks off their engagement in the street. Her own sister replaces her in the marriage to the Third Prince. She became the center of gossiping in the city. In her resentment, she hits herself on the Su Family’s gate, only to become the object of other people’s ghost marriage.

“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.