MTL - Lord of End of World - ~ Chapter 83

Getting lost in a trip made Tang Siyu be mistaken for streetwalker, and she lost her wedding night. After returning home, she found the fiance cheat her with her sister. She cancelled the wedding in anger and declared missing.

Five years later, she came back with her gifted son. Unexpectedly, her baby took part in the piano competition in order to find his father. “My name is Tang Bao, my mother is Tang Siyu who is super beautiful! I am four and a half years old this year. If there is a man who looks like me may be my father. Please contact me! ” Behind the scenes, a woman was mad. A few days later, the mysterious man called himself the father of her child. Tang Siyu looks at this tall and handsome man who looks like her son. She is angry. So, he was the bastard five years ago?

A frail and often ill son of a wealthy merchant unexpectedly embarked on the path of cultivating immortality while seeking a way to prolong his life!During the Tang Dynasty’s Golden Age, the world was at peace, the climate was favorable, and the people lived in tranquility.One thousand years later, demonic beings devoured the sky, demonic ghosts rampaged, and sorrow-filled cries resonated everywhere.The Journey to the West reappeared, the Great Sage fought against the heavens, the Heavenly Stem descended to the mortal world, reincarnating anew.Mysterious transmigrations and reincarnations, reality and illusions intermingling, truly extraordinary!Is it just a dream predicted in the prophecy? Or a reality that has yet to occur?Can he eradicate the predestined demonic barrier, eliminate the catastrophes of the Three Realms that have yet to occur, and save the people from utter destruction?

“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.

Martin was a succubus who perished at the hands of the Sun God, struck down by a single divine arrow during the epic war between gods and demons. Meanwhile, Martin, a Ph.D. in literature and a seasoned movie enthusiast, lost his life in a car accident in August 2023. By some cosmic twist of fate, the souls of the two Martins converged within the chaotic currents of time and space, merging and eventually settling in the body of an eleven-year-old boy named Martin Myers, living in Los Angeles in 1996.A world without spiritual energy? Fortunately, as a succubus, I don’t need spiritual energy to cultivate; all I need is the essence of desire. Emotions—joy, anger, sorrow, and excitement—are all desires. As long as these emotions are directed at me, they can become fuel for my growth. Alright, let’s see what reliable ways exist in this world to stir people’s emotions en masse. Hmm, becoming a writer—sounds promising; and music, that could work too; but wow, Hollywood movies! They have a global reach; this is perfect! What’s that term again? Right—“Idea Recycler.” I’ll start with writing, but the ultimate goal is to become an international movie star. Acting skills, you say? Don’t worry—I’m a succubus, after all!Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to this novel. All characters, settings, and plot elements belong to the original author and copyright holder. This work is shared purely for entertainment purposes, with no intent to infringe on the original creator’s rights.