MTL - The Decade of Deep Love - Chapter 64

A man from modern Earth is reincarnated into baby Zeus.Arm with future knowledge of the Greek mythology even if it was little, it still covered major events in the world, he will make sure to be a better and more powerful version of the Sky Father.

Shennugou is an old and infertile place. It’s hard to find a woman to marry here.

The Li family is extremely poor. With only four bare walls for a home, they don’t even have a woman to manage the household.

The Heavens had mercy today, Li family’s oldest son had saved a woman at the market and brought her back home.

Li Man was killed by her mother-in-law and transmigrated. She was almost hanged on the first day, but, fortunately, she was rescued by the Li brothers.

This doesn’t mean that her destiny is over.

The language didn’t make sense at first, she discovered that, here, standard Mandarin sucks.

- Description from Novelupdates

Lin Xun unintentionally downloads a text game called “Book of Salvation”.Leveling up and taking adventures is just standard procedure.Not only can he bring game items into reality, but he discovers that he can also bring game characters into the real world…Although the game difficulty is hellish, luckily, Lin Xun has an unusual talent.While other Apostles can only use one game character…Lin Xun is hesitating over which one of the game characters he should use.While other Apostles are still using weak human characters...Lin Xun is already using powerful monster BOSS characters.…Then one day, when Lin Xun brings a terrifying BOSS into the real world...“Would you believe me if I said I'm here to save the world?”

“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.