Will of chaos - Chapter 75 Cap 75: Battle Against Undead Part 1(Chapter Preview)

When Jiang Ming woke up, he possessed the power of immortality.

Facing the cruel and dangerous world of cultivating immortals, Jiang Ming realized his own path of cultivation.

That is, only practicing forbidden techniques!

Blood-burning knife technique, one year of life lost for each cut… Eat me ten times first!

A holy body for a hundred eons, three levels for one day…refined to one hundred thousand levels!

The Heavenly Reaper Technique, if you use it, you will be backlashed by the destiny… Let me first calculate the color of the saint’s clothes tomorrow.

To break the delusion, you need to look directly at the indescribable things…

Birth and death, being scoured by the secluded capital Huangquan every day…

Practicing and practicing… Jiang Ming discovered that his forbidden technique was already invincible in the world!

- Description from novelbuddy

[BL WARNING: EXTREMELY MATURE CONTENT]“I know you like it when I dig deep inside you.”Maxim had been living a secret double life as a masked dancer in a brothel within the red-light district, driven by the need to earn a high income.One night, he noticed a golden-haired man staring at him with intense interest.Seizing the opportunity, Maxim seduced the stranger and lured him into his bed for a one-night stand.However, what began as a brief moment of pleasure quickly turned into a nightmare when Maxim discovered the true identity of his mysterious admirer.The revelation set off a relentless pursuit, with Maxim finding himself hunted wherever he went. Especially after knowing the golden-haired admirer was the son of the man who killed his parents.The revelation set off a relentless pursuit, as Maxim found himself being hunted wherever he went; he couldn't escape.Would Maxim surrender himself or fight for his rightful place?

Once upon a time, the Land of Promise thrived under the cycle of the four seasons change. Until a vengeful enchantress cursed the land, and divided it into four realms each with a ruler to bear its burden.The people suffered for years under the endless heat in the Summerlands, the bitter cold in the Winterlands, the never changing bloom in the Springlands and the constant fall in the Autumlands.A prophecy whispers of a marriage between a king and queen that will release the land from its curse and unite it under a single kingdom.Princess Caroline is forced to marry the Summer King, will she be able to fight for a peace amidst a court full of power hungry nobles and will she succumb to a burning love in the arms of a fiery warlord?

“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.