MTL - The Record of Unusual Creatures - Chapter 59 Insufficient

In the past, there was a small cannon fodder who wholeheartedly dedicated herself to the medicinal path.

Only after dying once did she learned that even if she was brilliant, she could only be an insignificant side character used to emphasize the female lead’s limelight. Any relationship with the male lead and other supporting male characters would bring her bad luck.

When going out to collect some medicinal herbs in Qingfeng Valley, she kindly rescued a male side character. The man woke up and saw the female lead and became eternally grateful to her instead. He thought that the monster that hurt him was brought by the small cannon fodder so she was punished.

The cycle repeated and eventually everyone she saved blindly loved the righteous female lead. Ultimately she was killed by one of the men who was entangled with the female lead.

……

So after her rebirth, she began to firmly adhere to the principle of ‘pay me first, then I’ll cure you’.

Male cannon fodders who love the female lead, charge them triple fee!

Male side characters who ambiguously entangled with the female lead, charge them 10 times!

Male lead, the most important one, charged him 100 times!

She single heartedly insisted on using money to distance herself from those men and drew a clear boundary between them. But her ability was too high, that the male lead and side characters from all over the world always came to her for help…

She finally became the richest person in cultivation world!

Sian Lee, the strongest person under the heavens in old china, was reborn as a very overweight woman.

“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.

[Can the devil’s music bring happiness to the world?]From Jimmy Hendrix to Rachmaninoff, all the historical musicians who he meets in his dreams.The devil that presents itself as a little boy in love with singing.The devil’s blessing, given to such a tiny child.In the blessings of many devils,The boy’s song for the world begins.