MTL - Let Me Ruffle Your Fur a Little - Chapter 80 I have a sister-in-law

Growing up in the slums, deprived of freedom, being enslaved by his parents and thugs, all Lucifer wanted was a life of freedom, a life that he could do whaver he wanted, not being ordered by anyone.And then luck came to Lucifer when he awakened the system, and even luckier was that he was able to raise his Destiny Rank to Unpredictable.But in return...he was turned into Freedom's Most Loyal Slave

At the age of seventeen, Xie Xiao Qiu met “him.”

Since then, “he” was engraved on her heart, an unforgettable existence.

Since then, she has been imprisoned by love to the point of madness.

“He” is called Wang Li Chuan. `

Six years ago, her boyfriend Li Chuan left without saying goodbye. Thereafter Xiao Qiu becomes the prisoner of love. She does not understand how such an intense and strong love could vanish overnight. The mystery of Li Chuan’s disappearance shatters Xiao Qiu’s heart. When they meet again Xiao Qiu wavers between advance and retreat. In the face of such a good and patient man, she suddenly understands happiness is never easy to grasp. Crippled or perfection is always accompanied by shadow.

Lin Yi unexpectedly traversed to the Cultivation World, becoming an Outer Sect Spirit Farmer of the Liu Yun Sect.

In this brutal world of cultivation, he decided to keep a low profile and grow, only to consequently awaken a titles system!

“The host is careful and discreet, not drawing attention, obtaining the title of [Survivor].”

“The host diligently looks after the Spiritual Field, obtaining the title of [Little Farmer].”

“The host practices the cultivation technique daily, with commendable perseverance, obtaining the title [Newbie].”

He realized that these titles had different magic effects, so he slowly became a big shot in the cultivation world, one step at a time!

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .

“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.