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... he walked into the ruins because there was a feeling of fear and trepidation in the air.


This definitely wasn't a good place!


Perhaps this journey might not be a smooth sailing. There were layer upon layer of perils, and he felt unconfident in his heart about the rest of the journey.


The ruins were huge with an entire array of palace halls and numerous jade towers. But now, they had been reduced to rubble, broken ramparts, and fragmented walls. Palaces became ...

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I am Ye Qing. Lucky I found a [Monster Factory] application.

This bunch of super strong monsters are individually comparable to over 100 human beings, and they bring all kinds of skills!

Efficiency? With the skill processing speed +300, you still want to compete?

Precision? *cough, cough* Bring me that legendary dial caliper, let’s show them what absolute precision really mean.

Ye Qing: When, us, men want to be successful, we pull out our wallets.

Monsters: Don’t play those malice games with us. The creation of ultimate machinery is our love and life. These impenetrable bodies are our tools of the trade.

A 20 meter tall, overly buffed, savage looking monsters hold on to a ultimate cutting machine and yelled at the sky: “I am not targeting anyone specifically! Rather I am telling you all that, everything, in front of me and my tools are, nothing, but TRASH!”

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Max wanted to be a [Baker].

Settle down, bake stuff, and enjoy life.

The gods, however, ruined that dream. Given [Baker] and a black skill, he is now running for his life, trying to grow strong enough to return home.

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“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.

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Standing before you is the Quicklime Martial Saint, the founder of the Taiyang Fist, the Flower Folding Master of Dinghu, Half-step Master Invincible Under Heaven, the First Sword of Xuanmen, the Judicial God, and Taiyi....After the end of the Dharma, a time of grand corruption descends, the world devoid of spiritual essence, and the system of Dao fruits takes precedence.Embracing Dao fruits, ascending step by step, thereby possessing the power of gods and saints, transcending the ordinary to achieve holiness.'Just like this,' Jiang Li said while summoning a dog, 'Heavenly Dog, bite him.'