Love Symphony: Let Your Heart Beat for Me - Chapter 28 - 010 Crazy Bees and Fluttering Butterflies_2

"Your bed is cold," spoke a voice in the room that had her eyes go wide in fear. Nervously, she turned around, gulping softly to see a shadow on her bed as if someone laid down there. The man who had been lying down sat up emerging out from the shadows where he had been waiting for her.

The mortal kings did not dare meet my gaze, and the Admiral would bow his body in my presence. Why, you ask?Because I was born noble, standing above all living beings.Luffy wants to become the Pirate King? That is a fantasy. Send him straight to Impel Down.Dragon wants to challenge Mariejois? Impossible. Send him for ideological reformation.For 800 years, the world has been beneath our feet, and it will remain so for a thousand more.I am a god walking among mortals. If this world must change, then it is god who will lead that change.Everything under the sun is trampled beneath the hooves of the Celestial Dragons!“I am the King of the World!” — Donquixote Claudius.______________________________________This is a TLRaw: 海贼：世界之王Support me on patreon for 40+ Advanced chapters: patreon.com/Blownleaves

This is a story about Gong Lixin who was the young master of an ancient underground palace in the ancient times. He was raised by his master and forced to partake sexual relationships with numerous people to cultivate his Yin Body. His master who has a Yang Body was going to absorb him after he has reach a level to become stronger. MC refused and killed his master also dying at the same time. Then he transmigrated to the modern time and thinking he will enjoy peaceful life, the end of the world arrived.

Being someone with no special powers except for his martial arts, see how he use his martial arts to dominate the times and find his lovers.

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.