Life Of A Nobody - as a Villain - Chapter 363: The troubles of Saisha Ellsworth

Chen Yuan, a government official in Ping’an County, came across, with an altar of luck hidden in his mind.

As long as you sacrifice luck, you can get the guidance of heavenly secrets, supernatural powers, exercises, sorcery, treasures of heaven and earth…

There are immortals, Buddhas, and demons in this world, as high as temples and as far away as rivers and lakes.

There are three thousand sword immortals who control the sword in the sky, there are Buddhist arhats holding the sky with one finger, and there are rivers and lakes…

It was the worst of times, and it was the best of times.

My name is Chen Yuan, from the abyss!

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Killing decisively, there is already a 2 million word old book “Martial Arts Beginning from Bandits” Welcome to read

- Description from novelbuddy

With peerless medical skills in one hand and unmatched Kung Fu in the other, bearing the memory of the Medical Divine, I dominate the city as the god it kneels to. I am here, so I decide your fate between life and death! I am here, so I am the heaven that dictates your destiny!

The strong are lonesome. Overcoming the loneliness pushes you to stand invincible at the top.

Pro-disciple of the Shaolin Temple on earth, Huang Xiaolong was reborn into a Martial Spirit world, carrying Hua Xia’s secret knowledge, the Body Metamorphose Scripture. In a Martial Spirit world, only those with Martial Spirit are able to train in battle qi and become a warrior. Huang Xiaolong born with a heaven-defying rare Martial Spirit was mistakenly taken for common variant Martial Spirit during the awakening ceremony conducted by the tribe and thus sidelined. However, Huang Xiaolong with his common “variant” Martial Spirit again, and again displayed unnatural talent, defeating geniuses, shocking the clan and the entire Martial Spirit 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.