Power and Wealth - Chapter 497 – There’s a ship!

Liu Yong has a pet snapping turtle that can grow continuously. The bigger it gets, the rivers and lakes can no longer accommodate it, so he can only go to the sea to dominate.

This is also a magical snapping turtle. Liu Yong can communicate with it without barriers, and the attributes and skills of the snapping turtle can also be shared. Therefore, someone who is the owner of the snapping turtle also criticized it.

- Description from novelbuddy

“You never loved me anyway, did you?”---------------From the start, Lucy Grey knew her marriage was doomed to fall.She held onto her one-sided love for her husband for two years, but that was not enough to save their marriage.On the day Lucy was diagnosed with ovarian cancer, Landon stayed beside his first love at the hospital.Finally, she realized it was time to let go.On that same night, she signed the divorce agreement and left quietly.But fate dealt a cruel hand as Lucy found out she was pregnant!After three years of searching, Landon finally found her.However, when he stood in front of her doorstep, he never expected a child who looked exactly like him would adorably look up and ask, “Are you my daddy?”

Never touched a girl for five years, living in isolation, and having no skills or idea to talk to a girl.

Tim never thought he would reincarnate in the game he was working on. Now, he had to go through a life that almost seemed impossible for him.

With the Lust System that he created, Tim was forced into a Murim World where strength was everything. And, the only way he could level up was by getting a new girl by his side.

The skills that he could only buy from real currency can only be accessed through quests now.

Can he survive in this world? Can he live with this new life where he has to touch a woman every day of his life? Can he reach the top of the world with his harem?

“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.