MTL - Daily Life of Jiang Liuniang - Chapter 25 you smile so pretty

Kent is an ordinary wizard in the Sky family wizard school, and his wife Thea also works as an elder in the same school. As Thea is moving out to the elder barracks, she kicks Kent out of the house and puts the house for sale.“You are just a piece of waste who couldn’t earn a silver.” Thea’s last words still lingering in Kent’s soul. (It’s not like Kent is a lazy guy who escapes studies. Most of Kent’s meridians were locked down by a curse.)Suddenly on the same day, Kent received a Raven from his maternal aunt. “Are you really my aunt?” Kent questioned with a doubtful gaze. “Yes, Kent… I have sent 5000 gold and Heavenly elixir to remove your meridian curse. Don’t mind asking me for more money. Your mom left a huge fortune for you.”From that moment Kent’s life changed as he brought a new flying pet equal to core disciples, new weapons, Villas, Fancy meals, and whatnot. Soon, his powers sore and he became a Supreme Arch Magus.

Tunnel Rat is being revised. I have finished the revised manuscript for Book one, which comprises Chapters 1-60.

At some point, the first book will be published on Amazon. A few chapters and an outline of the first book will be left here on RR, and the bulk of chapters 1-60 will be removed, stubbing the book. I will give warning before that happens.

Milo lives in a steel cave within a man-made mountain of steel and concrete. He spends his days repairing the machinery that keeps the habitat livable and tinkering with the prosthetics that help his twisted body move about through the small tunnels and air shafts that are his world. He's as much a piece of discarded machinery as the equipment he keeps running.

Given a chance at being someone different will he become a hero and live in the sunlight? The light beckons, but there are secrets buried in the ground. Ancient mysteries left by races that delved deep and stayed below. Maybe only a tunnel rat could find them?

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I transmigrated into the world of an urban novel.Bai Zhou couldn’t help but complain: “Why is it that other people either become the protagonist or the big villain, and I end up as a small lackey under a villain?”However, Bai Zhou soon realized that the feeling of “bullying others by relying on power” was actually quite enjoyable. Even if someone sought revenge, it would all fall on his “boss.”How comfortable is that?So, Bai Zhou decided to continue down the path of “bullying others by relying on power.”But soon, things started to spiral out of control:“Sister-in-law … does big bro know you’re doing this? I’m just a driver!”“No, big bro, you’re my big bro! Can you stand up and talk? Stop kneeling!”“Oh man, old master, you’re the local emperor of Shanghai! Why are you offering tribute to me?!”

“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.