Godly Investor: A Hundred Trillion Dollars For Investment And Donations - Chapter 49

Occupational Analysis of “Crown Princess”:

Number One: Promotion prospects are bleak, Crown Princess—Empress—Empress Dowager, the time between each is vast, and difficulty is extremely high.

Number Two: No guarantees of continuous labor, not to mention the lack of insurance, you can be dismissed at any time, furthermore you will no longer be able to start another career!

Number Three: The nature of the job is dangerous, at any time there is the danger of death, if the Crown Prince isn’t able to ascend as emperor, you will fall out of luck together with him, if the crown prince ascends as emperor, you have to be careful as to not unluckily fall alone.

Number Four: Moonlighting as a s*x worker, though the intensity of the job is unlikely to be very big, however, there is no power to select the service partner.

To summarize, the job of Crown Princess isn’t particularly a good job, no prospects, large stress, and the manual labor is intense……

Okay, in fact that was just a flood of words, a simple summary is:

This is a story about a “woman’s” struggles in the harem……

At the same time, it is also about a “man’s” sufferings in the harem……

- Description from Novelupdates

Chinese fringe international Licado became the alien Ronaldo’s half-brother in 2002.

This is a nearly omnipotent Ronaldo who has not been plagued by injuries.

As a huge fan of Ronaldo, Licado is his biggest supporter?

And when he himself picked up the Golden Globe for the first time said, “He [Ronaldo] didn’t lose to me, he wouldn’t lose to anyone,” . He just lost to time … ”

Without a system, without a golden finger, rebirth is his greatest luck.

- Description from Novelupdates

A young doctor never thought that, by taking his Hippocratic oath, he would give his life to save a little girl who, while chasing a balloon, crossed the street without realizing that a truck was going to run her over.At the moment when his body flew out from the impact, it was as if his mind was freed and he no longer felt his body, all his life memories passed in an instant, and with a smile, he felt no regrets about dying.As an orphan, he spent his life studying and working to pay for his studies, he managed to graduate as a doctor and had planned to study a specialty. But fate would not give him the opportunity, without family or girlfriend, he left nothing behind but life insurance, which would fall to the orphanage that raised him and that he knows would be of great help.But when he thought that his mind would vanish forever, as an atheist, his firmness in not believing in gods or anything paranormal, hit him out of nowhere, telling him that he was wrong. Or rather, the blow was so real and on his buttocks, when he wanted to protest, he could only let out a cry. And he realized that he had been reborn.Now, he faces this new life, and with a family at last. He can feel the joy of living again. And to his surprise, this is a world of magic and swords. A fantasy world with a modern style. But something is wrong with this world!Women rule here and the few men are actually flowers and treasures that are sought and pursued by women. Who pamper and care for them as if a man would care for a woman!But the surprise doesn't end here! Follow my story of how a man has to show his manly worth and find his place in this world of women!WARNING!!!Please note that this is a story with futa on male, and male on female, R-18 novel. If the content is not to your liking, please do not read and do not report, you can contact my email with comments and criticisms with respect and cordiality.-------------------------------------------------------------------------_______________________________________________________________________Additional Tags - Male Protagonist, Harem, Love, Action, Romance, R18, Futa on Male, Beautiful Female Lead.

“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.