MTL - Ace of the Dragon Division - Chapter 1211 1212: I have never seen my boss retreat.

Lin Xun unintentionally downloads a text game called “Book of Salvation”.Leveling up and taking adventures is just standard procedure.Not only can he bring game items into reality, but he discovers that he can also bring game characters into the real world…Although the game difficulty is hellish, luckily, Lin Xun has an unusual talent.While other Apostles can only use one game character…Lin Xun is hesitating over which one of the game characters he should use.While other Apostles are still using weak human characters...Lin Xun is already using powerful monster BOSS characters.…Then one day, when Lin Xun brings a terrifying BOSS into the real world...“Would you believe me if I said I'm here to save the world?”

Li Zhizhi was taken back to the capital at the age of fifteen to recognize her ancestral roots. As the true eldest daughter of the Li family, she should have been cherished. However, everyone preferred Li Suwan, who was knowledgeable, polite, and clever. As for Li Zhizhi, she grew up in a remote and impoverished village, ignorant of the ways of the world, and her name even carried a sense of disdain.

Shao Xuan joins a friend in his expedition to a recently discovered archaeological cave. After he picks up an ordinary looking stone he is teleported to a different world and wakes up in the body of a small orphan child. The world he is in now is still in its stone age with primitive tools made of stone and the ways of the people are savage. Savage isn’t the only thing special about the people though, because they have superhuman strength, jump higher than trees and punch stones. In short, they are able to cultivate their bodies. Despite all this, it is a real struggle to survive because of the scarcity of food. Together with Caesar, his pet wolf, he tries to survive in this cruel world.

“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.