The Investiture: Unlimited Blade Works Nezha - Chapter 337 - 336: Mother-in-law’s Birthday?

Tired of the intrigue in the big city and the face of the boss, tired of working overtime every day and earning thousands of dollars, Zhou An returned from the big city to the small fishing village where he was raised, and lived a leisurely life!

Plant vegetables, grow flowers, and thousands of acres of fruit trees!

Walk the dog, feed the cows, the ranch is thousands of miles away!

Deep sea seafood, shallow sea fish, fishermen catch!

Cultivating mountain streams, grazing cattle and sheep, and fragrant fruit trees!

In the bright spring, the teenagers wandered freely, and Zhou Ande was surrounded by mountains and rivers, and lived a leisurely life!

- Description from novelbuddy

On his 32nd birthday, Jeff, along with all of his friends, confesses how they are dissatisfied with their lives.If only I didn't suppress my desires.If only I didn't ignore my feelings for her.If only I confess my love to her.If only I had chosen a different path from the start.If only...At the end of his 32nd birthday, the next morning, Jeff wakes up a decade back to the past. And as if all of his friends have trusted all of their regrets to him, Jeff remembers them all.With his regression that gave him a mysterious system known as Returner Fantasy, Jeff will do everything to change the future, not only for himself but for his friends and the ones he loves.[Warning: Contains Mature and Sexual content.]This book will have a lot of mature and sexual content. But those will not be the main focus of story.This book will show characters trying their best to redeem themselves from their failures and regrets.

“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.