Unparalleled After Ten Consecutive Draws - Chapter 1117 - Making a Deal With the Will of the Planquilon Immortal World, Smooth Sailing

Lu Yuan crossed into the world of immortal cultivation and obtained [Skill Panel]. He was well aware of the level of danger in the world of immortal cultivation.

[Sword-ridden skill reaches LV.10. Please choose the direction of advancement…]

[Obtained advanced skill – Ride the Wind Royal Sword Technique: Double the speed of Royal Sword]

[Reaching LV.10 in Breath Convergence Technique, please choose the direction of advancement…]

[Obtained advanced skill – Aether Turtle Breath Concealment Technique: Double the effect of breath concealment]

[Disguise skill reached LV.10. Please choose the direction of advancement…]

[Obtain advanced skill – Disguise: Adjust your face muscles to achieve a perfect disguise effect]

The so-called immortal cultivation was to see who lived longer!

Killing the enemy was not something to brag about, but living was.

Running fast, being good at hiding, looking ordinary… were the posture of the immortal emperor!

Lu Yuan: I came to the immortal cultivation world only to do three things. Live long, live long, and live a godda*n long life.

“Only those who are alive… are worthy of cultivating.”

“What, you talk to me about ghost immortals? A bunch of evil b*stards. Get out of here!”

Steady immortal cultivation: afraid to die, so I maximized my defensive abilities.

Dear readers! Fresh green style, maybe you will like it more in .

One moment, Lucas closed his eyes to sleep. The next, he opened them to find himself not in his bedroom, but in a courtroom.Even more startling, he was in a different body.Lucas was confused, but there was no time to dwell on it.Why?Because....“Your Honour, please sentence him to death!”the prosecutor demanded, looking directly at Lucas, who was seated on the judge's bench.'It seems I have become a judge.' Lucas realized.

Facing a meteor, I wished for a stable and respectable job and money to spend, only to become the lucky one physically carried away by the meteor.After drifting through chaos, I was reborn as Nezha.The good news is all my wishes came true, the bad news is the world is not right.Nezha, carrying fragments of the Creation Jade Slip and Chaos Pearl, doesn't want to follow the old path of becoming a tool for Taiyi to avert disasters, so he apprentices under Nuwa.What do you mean I killed Ao Bing? I don't know Ao Bing, you should ask someone else.What do you mean Yin Shou is tyrannical, he is just an enthusiast of cultivation.Stone Ji is a spirit born from rocks, naturally, she matches my expertise in mending the sky, so let her be my good friend (tool).Why do you say Zhao Gongming looks simple-minded? I think he looks very much like my brother-in-law.Let’s see how Nezha securely cultivates in the prehistoric world, defying fate and ascending the Great Dao.

“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.