The Truth of Magic - Chapter 654

Grade Three Ironclad Battle Demon Ant (extremely rare species), with a lifespan of 30.5 years, possesses special abilities (immense strength, swiftness, armor-piercing, soul-eroding poison, moderate intelligence +, possesses mid-level carapace, demonization; in a demonized state, its speed increases fivefold, attack strength tenfold, defense fivefold).

Puppet Worker Ants can capture creatures of the same grade or lower.

Elephant Trunk Soldier Ants can release chemical substances to attack enemies…

(Main features include cultivation, breeding, insect taming, and cultivation.)

In the celestial empire, during the ninth year of the Mandate of Heaven,Chaos reigns across the land, and the people suffer.The royal governance collapses, and western barbarians with their pantheon of gods invade.New warlords arise, claiming territories; the Taiping rebels wreak havoc, leading to widespread misery.Calamities like floods, droughts, earthquakes, sandstorms, tornadoes, acid rain, blood moons, and meteor falls occur in succession.Countless demons roam, strange beings thrive, spirits mingle with the inexplicable, and mysterious phenomena arise.In these dark and tumultuous times, Tao Qian opens his eyes to find himself about to be beheaded at the vegetable market...

Mr. Tycoon Is Actually the Father of My Child!

“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.