MTL - Heaven’s Will Balancing System - Chapter 56 Bai Zhuang

After an ominous prophesy is discovered, the swordsmen of the kingdom of Ensis must band together to avoid the fate that has already been foretold.

In the night, cook wine with the master and discuss the way of heaven and earth!

In the snow, Yu Jian chased the tide of Guangling River!

- Description from novelbuddy

Follow the captivating journey of Ken Takagi, a high school baseball prodigy whose dreams were shattered by a devastating shoulder injury during a crucial match. After being forced to quit baseball and become a regular office worker, his life turns sour upon seeing his teammates compete on the professional level while he wallows in pain and self-pity.However, fate has other plans for Ken when he's granted a second chance, thrust back into his middle schooler self with a powerful ally—the Major League System.With a newfound opportunity to rewrite his destiny, Ken embarks on a quest to reclaim the glory he once lost. Armed with the Major League System, he navigates the challenges of adolescence, friendship, and the pursuit of greatness. As Ken strives to overcome the mistakes of his past and shape a future he can be proud of, readers are taken on an exhilarating ride through the world of baseball, where dreams are made and broken.Will Ken be able to rise above the setbacks, hone his skills, and fulfill his lifelong dream of becoming a professional baseballer? With the Major League System at his disposal, the journey is fraught with excitement, setbacks, and unexpected twists. This is a tale of resilience, redemption, and the pursuit of excellence—a story that will keep you eagerly turning the pages, yearning to see if Ken can hit a home run in rewriting his own destiny. Get ready for a thrilling exploration of passion, determination, and the unwavering spirit of a young athlete chasing greatness.

“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.