MTL - I’ve Led the Villain Astray, How Do I Fix It? - Chapter 457

In the vast world of cultivation, a talisman is formed by merging the essence of heaven and earth with the spirit and soul of the practitioner. Imbuing the formless with power and imprinting it onto paper, talismans hold immense potential. Yet, this art comes with a price—most who pursue the talismanic path exhaust their spiritual consciousness, falling before they reach their full potential.Lu An’s fate was no different—until his soul, shattered by fate, found itself reborn in a new realm of cultivation. Within his sea of consciousness, he discovers the Four Treasures of the Study, mystical tools that allow him to create talismans without depleting his spiritual energy. With this newfound gift, Lu An begins his ascent.[You have drawn a Breath-Concealing Talisman. Completion Rate: 62%. Grade: Inferior, first grade. Spiritual consciousness refunded.][You have drawn a Wealth-Bringing Talisman. Completion Rate: 73%. Grade: Middle, fifth grade. Spiritual consciousness refunded.][You have drawn a Three-Yuan Gathering Qi Talisman. Completion Rate: 85%. Grade: Superior, ninth grade. Spiritual consciousness refunded.]The world of talisman-making opens before him—mastery over the five elements, control of winds and thunder, the study of formations, the nurturing of spiritual creatures, and even the command of ancient treasures. With every talisman, Lu An’s understanding of the Dao deepens, his soul, body, and laws intertwining as one. His talismans grow in power—some divine, some forbidden—each step toward immortality.Using the very forces of nature as his tools, Lu An crafts talismans that can reshape reality. With mountains and seas as his ink and brush, and heaven and earth as his canvas, he will rise to the pinnacle of the immortal realm. Even the immortals and Buddhas will bow before him, for they know him as the Talisman Ancestor.But few recall the man behind the legend, the one named Lu An, whose journey to the top, though formidable, has only just begun.

After Yan Yu’s family read through the book, they discovered that the protagonist of this ancient novel was the original uncle.

They took their uncle to drink blood, were separated early, and were pulled out for a walk at the end of the full text to show how miserable their lives are.

At this time, the plot is going to the point where the cousin is ruined by others, and the uncle comes to the door to reason and is injured. If the wheat in the field is not harvested, it will be desolate. Twelve taels of gambling debt…

When they were at a loss, [Support Trading Platform] was overjoyed.

Supporting trading platform: Connecting multiple dimensions, aiming to help users who are struggling to survive, overcome difficulties and tide over difficulties together.

Whoooo! move! Yes, we are poor!

A family of three: waiting to be separated by fate, self-reliant, and trying to survive.

But he didn’t want to, uncle, he was reborn! ! !

After some consideration, he decided to protect his family and embarked on a completely different path.

Reality: what? No distinction?

- Description from novelbuddy

[Ilyasviel completes the check-in and rewards himself for a height increase of 1cm]

Elijah: “???”

[Shizaki Kuangsan completes the task, rewarded with a historical video of Shizaki Kuangsan, please accept it! 】

Tokisaki Kurumi: “???”

[Fit Testrosa completes the quest and is rewarded with a whole set of bombardment flow for making friends with Takamachi Naiba! 】

Fett: “???”

[Shiroi Kuroko completes the task and rewards Misaka Mikoto Ai’s bento! 】

Shirai Kuroko: “…!!!”

Chu Chen silently watched the group of system hosts who had been playing with the system he created to the point of collapse, and drank tea very calmly.

“You don’t really blame me for the rewards you get. I’m only responsible for the system delivery system. You blame me for being like this…”

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.