MTL - Pirate: Earning One Trillion Yuan Before Retirement is Not Too Much! - Chapter 159 The salary is not easy to mix!

The world I traveled through was full of players, survival was not easy, and I was entangled in the system, becoming the most dazzling one among NPCs…

The natives don’t like me, and the players see me as a thorn in their side.

In order to live a better life in a different world and not to be bullied by players, I can only do my best to turn the suffering I have experienced into the suffering of others, keep all the harvest for myself, thrive, and become a player who can never be bullied by players. The defeated boss…

This is a story about the fourth natural disaster being destroyed by natural disasters.

Wanding’s work “Dream Master of Ten Thousand Worlds” has been completed, character is guaranteed, please feel free to enter the pit.

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- Description from novelbuddy

A tree of 10,000 flowers, the world is the door.
The spells change a lot, but the hearts of the people are unchanged.

- Description from Uukanshu translation

Su Ping, who traveled to the world of beast control, awakened the All Souls Catalog. As long as he cultivated more similar beasts, the higher the level of the catalog collected, the better the rewards he would get.

Su Ping: Okay, okay, this is how you play, right?

Are you a strong Dread Wolf? I will directly end the endless wolf pack and beast tide!

Is your Bone King very tough? Look at my undead natural disaster?

You control the Mecha Gundam? I wonder if Deus Ex Machina can withstand the mechanical storm?

You’re an insect-catching boy, right? Follow the Zerg invasion!

All the beast masters: OK, OK, let’s play like this!

Who taught you how to control beasts like this? ! !

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- 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.