Versatile Mage: Starting with the White Tiger Pendant - Chapter 83: Mu Nu Jiao Visits

[You have been chosen as a Lord of the Intergalactic Lord Project.] [Your reward: A floating island to call your own.] [Your mission: Build your kingdom, summon legendary allies, and dominate the worlds!] [Your advantage: An SSS-grade Ultimate Gacha System.] Atlas Blackthorn, the newly chosen Lord of a floating island, wields the power to summon legendary warriors, powerful artifacts, and, of course, waifus. With boundless ambition and the Ultimate Gacha System at his side, Atlas sets out to become the strongest Lord in all worlds. How far will his ambition take him?

An introverted girl has had enough of the isolation inadvertently formed by her self-imposed isolation. Things changed when she discovers that she has the ability to transverse across the fabric of our universe into the dimensions of multiple storylines. Not only do these storylines leave her with invaluable lessons – they also impart a portion of their power – if she is deserving of it. The time has come for Zhao Youyue to change her fate. She will be a Side-Character, or perhaps…something more!

With an unparalleled and exhilarating narrative, he is the nation’s lethal weapon, the soul-slaying god, annihilating all who offend the Yun nation.He is one of the Four Gods, the Hellish Evil God, undefeated and unmatched, with a name that echoes across the globe.Moreover, he is the inheritor of the Dragon Body, having slain two gods, the Flame Emperor and the Apollo God, inheriting their divine status, becoming an unyielding force that commands attention.He is Mu Chen, the Casanova for women, the nightmare for men, embarking on the ultimate urban passionate journey...

“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.