As a father, I just want to quietly watch you live a long life - Chapter 790 - 255: The Demigod Corpse Curse Sword Immortal Draws His Sword, Underworld Mo City Domineers over the Martial Saint_3

After a seven-day slumber, Chen Yun discovers that his body is undergoing inexplicable metamorphoses that cannot be explained by science.Evolving flesh, unimaginable abilities, mystical secrets...All his previous pursuits now seem trivial, including money and career.The existence of a mythical realm in fantasy also doesn't seem too far off.

In the Sacred Lust Continent, where hundreds of Power Clans flourish – each boasting their unique Sacred Powers – lies the Starlight Family from Southern Lust.

Within this clan, Han Li was born without a Starlight spark in his soul; nobody cared for him except his Mother, Yue Li. Only she had been his constant.

Nothing seemed special about him.

But destiny had a different plan for him. On the day of his 18th birthday, everything about him changes as he unexpectedly acquires the Demonic Lust Sutra...

But his life didn't change due to the Sutra, but something entirely different—he saw something nobody had, nobody should.

Moreover, his mom has a cheat much more potent than his?!

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .

She is one of the best thieves that the world has seen in the 24th century. However, not even in her wildest dreams had she imagine that she’d be reincarnated as a good-for-nothing orphaned Seventh Miss of the Vermilion Bird Family. She finds herself stuck in a family that mistreats her, as well as an unfamiliar place with no support system.

“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.