MTL - The Strongest Hokage - v3 Chapter 120 Is there something that the sword can't open?

My name is Chen Huaian, and I’m dying of cancer.In my final days, I became obsessed with a game where you raise a virtual girlfriend.I spent all my savings buying her cultivation manuals and magical artifacts. Though my wallet was empty, I smiled like never before.I always thought it was just a game—until one day, my virtual girlfriend sent me a mystical pill.The next second, the pill materialized in my hand.I… might not have to die after all?——————————————————My name is Li Qingran. I was stripped of my cultivation, had my spiritual roots torn out, and was exiled from my sect, left to die in a broken-down hut.Just as I thought my life was over, I encountered a mysterious benefactor who never showed their face.This enigmatic figure healed my wounds, guided my cultivation, and helped me grow stronger until I became the most powerful sword cultivator in the Cangyun Realm.But the Cangyun Realm is on the brink of collapse. Spiritual energy is drying up, and the path to immortality is fading. Rumors spread that a mighty immortal from the Celestial Realm plans to merge our world with another on the verge of a spiritual resurgence.A great era of chaos is coming.And even immortals may fall.Desperate to find my benefactor, I scour the world for their traces.I will protect them—and become their eternal partner in the Dao!

“Mr. Lei, rumor has it that you have a crush on me?”

With a cold icy face, the man ignored her question and continued reading his documents. He later decided to explain himself, “I swear to God I want nothing to do with you! The b*stard who spread the rumor is a dog!”

Snap! Suddenly, a pencil snapped in his hands while their eyes meet. The surrounding seemed to have frozen.

A few moments passed…

“Grrr woof!” Lei Xiao barked…

“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.

If you had a chance to live again, what would you do? Earn money, hold onto a thick leg, just find someone to live a happy life with? Ha ha… Stepping on the beat of the times, riding the wind and breaking the waves, strategizing, using your knowledge to change yourself, and everything around you, come back! The reality flows to the plot, the golden fingers are thick, slow, and cool.

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