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... hing beauty that confounds the crowd!

The most powerful Witch, also the most charming woman, had a cold and mocking smile on her lips, her crimson eyes strangely enchanting like blood.

"Such a nauseating bunch of maggots..."

This chapter is updated by freēwēbnovel.com.

"The bell of judgment... let it start ringing from here!"

Her pale, slender arms lazily stretched out, her silver hair wildly dancing behind her, the black and crimson aura emanating from Shay ...

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Entering the mortal world for a hundred generations, do not compete for the youth of one life, but only for the day and night of a hundred generations.

Seeking immortals in the world of mortals.

My name is Li Qing. I have escaped from the mortal world in the third life, entered the Tao in the ninth life, and become immortal in the hundredth life.

(longevity stream, non-simulator, non-reincarnation rebirth)

(Bai Shi Shou Yuan, One Life Life)

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Martial Arts Year 1. Cracks have appeared between Heaven and Earth, and terrifying foreign monsters have begun to invade the earth.

Martial Arts Year 100. Martial arts have begun to flourish, and human martial artists are clashing against the invading foreign monsters.

Martial Arts Year 200. Humanity is declining, foreign monsters are continuously seizing habitual zones.

Martial Arts Year 300. Lu Sheng crossed over. Moreover, he had access to memories from 10,000 years in the future.

“The Body Refining Technique from 10,000 years in the future. After more than 10,000 revisions, it’s a thousand times more effective than the one used now!”

“Martial Art Breathing Method from 10,000 years in the future…”

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With a breath left, Hope is immortal.

Possessing Martial God bloodline, shouldering great responsibility,

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My SuperVillain System: Building Legion of SSS-Ranked SuperHeroinesChapter 34 - Ytrisia’s Suspicion
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“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.