The Legendary Moonlight Sculptor - Volume 56 Chapter 8 - The End Of The Quest (Part 2)

Gray was just a normal guy. No powers. No family. No future.In a world where strength and status decide everything, he was at the bottom.He worked hard just to survive, taking care of his little sister after their parents were gone.But no matter how hard he tried, life never gave him a break.And after losing his only job, Gray was ready to give up completely.Then something strange happened.Just as about he was to end his life, an unknown voice echoed in his ears.[Welcome to the Great Tycoon System.]And for the first time, Gray had a way to fight back.From being weak and broke, he’ll rise to the top—one coin and one job at a time.Because in the world where money can buy power, Gray is about to become the richest and strongest man alive.

“Sect Master Uncle is just a mortal, who just happens to have his own ‘billion’ interpretations of various spells.”Atop Misty Peak, the sect’s senior disciple was educating the new beginners.At that moment, Sect Leader Ye Feng, holding a blade of grass, waved it gently, and a fierce Sword Qi split the sky in two, revealing a dark spatial rift that was difficult to heal, frightening the gods above.The new disciple pointed at the sky, shocked, “And you told me the Sect Leader is just a mortal?”

“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.

Drizzles in the wind, a small shop with pennants, and flower-like vintners.

Xinfeng’s fine wine, tenderly-fresh sunflowers shoots, and superb delicacies.

Lin Yan, Shaoyin of Jingzhao laid his eyes on the restaurant’s owner who has skin as fair as snow and beautiful apricot eyes.

It was pitiful and pathetic for a young lady from high-society to fall into the situation of selling wine…

Yet Shen Shaoguang thought: With wines and delicacies, and being able to see handsome young lads pass by…Life is treating her well enough!

Lin Yan’s expression was heavy, these young lads dress up fancily every day, showing off themselves and playing boring games like rooster fights and dog races…It’s time to straighten them out!

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