MTL - Eight Desolate Sword God - Chapter 1120 Chaotic method phase change

“Hurry to the hospital and donate your blood.” “Go to the hospital at once.” “Remember to donate blood at the hospital.” Even if she had already been donating blood for three times in the past few months, which then took a toll on her body, Huo Chuan never felt an ounce of pity for his so-called wife. After three years of marriage, Huo Chuan would only ever contact her to ask her to donate her blood to the hospital. No, accurately speaking, she was selling her blood. Selling it to Huo Chuan’s beloved woman, Bai Ting.

Yun Qing had been working hard to play the role of a good wife and secretary, but Huo Chuan’s family thought nothing of her. They were enigmatic and petty toward her. Yun Qing even had to do all the cleaning and cooking alone at home. Her existence was so menial that one would even assume she was a maid. In the company, everyone underestimated her. Yun Qing had had enough so she said, “Let’s divorce.” Perhaps she still had hope, but her husband’s reaction completely disappointed her. “What are you throwing a tantrum for? Name your price. The doctor says that Bai Ting is in a critical condition!” Huo Chuan’s mother said, “A lowly secretary like you should be grateful that you married into our Huo family, so why are you making a fuss?” Huo Chuan stared down at her. “I know that you’ve donated more blood this month, but I’ve transferred you the compensation fee! I can tolerate you asking for more, but I won’t tolerate your tantrum!” Looking at Huo Chuan’s mesmerizing features, Yun Qing laughed at herself. He was indeed charming, but he had never ever shown her a pleasant expression. Enduring the pain in her heart, Yun Qing insisted on going through the divorce with Huo Chuan. “Don’t you regret this, Yun Qing!” “Huo Chuan, the only thing I regret is agreeing to this marriage with you three years ago. This marriage had me all battered and bruised. Enough is enough!” For Huo Chuan, she gave up her status and ignored her family’s advice. She pounced at Huo Chuan like a moth to flames, only to receive his indifference and lack of affection in return.

After Yun Qing left the Huo family, she got into a luxurious car. Old Master Yun’s heart ached for his daughter. “Qingqing, you had a three-year agreement with me, that if he doesn’t love you, you will come home and inherit the company. Now, it’s time to uphold your promise.”

A detective travels across the United States and becomes an agent of the Los Angeles Police Department.

After getting through the initial confusion, he repeatedly solved strange cases, became famous all over the world, and was called the most legendary detective in history…

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.

While the blue light blossoms, the insignificant struggle at the bottom. He grasps the opportunity to change his fate and embarks on an unprecedented path…