MTL - From the Dungeon, Slaughter the Demon Apostle - Chapter 287 Liger's death

Reincarnated as a fox by mistake, Tang Li Xue got a system that can help her evolve and reach Deity hood as her compensation.

Han Qiwu acquired a farm game system similar to Stardew Valley. While farming, fishing, and mining in his own fields, he can obtain high-quality loot. At the same time, he can also craft various ultra-high-quality farming tools, and he enjoys a brand new version loaded with an Oriental Mod!Peach blossoms bloom in March, picked to brew peach blossom wine.Loquats ripen in May, harvested to make loquat cake.Spring doves sing on the roof, white apricot flowers by the village.Learn recipes from Shennong, trade pets with Chiyou.Farming games are indeed fun, but playing can really be a grind!Fortunately, Han Qiwu gradually found the joy in grinding during his exploration...

The new book has been released “The Fierce Lord: Goodnight, Little Sweet Wife”. Everyone says that the mysterious family's Second Young Master Bo is cold, ruthless, and not close to women. Rumor has it that he is a high-ranking disabled man with hidden ailments.However, Mu Shini complains endlessly after hearing this. How is this hypocritical man not close to women? He is an outright rogue!She runs, he chases, and he confines her: “Woman, do you think that after becoming mine, you still have a chance to escape?”His endless entanglement makes her intolerable. “Divorce! I'll live with the child!”I recommend my other book “The President's On Top: New Wife, Stop Making Trouble”.

“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.