MTL - I Am a Corpse Collector In the World of Cultivating Immortals - Chapter 191 Mahayana perfection

In her previous life, the woman that her husband cheated on dug out her beautiful eyes, told her that her child was not her husband’s and then tortured her to death. Her six year old son, Tiantian, was harmed by the adulterer while her parents were brutally murdered…

Hua Qiyue woke up again and found out that she was now in the body of a famous general’s daughter, who shared the same first name as her. However, she discovered that the body was a useless one as her Qi veins were blocked! Since the heaven did give her another chance of life, she promised herself to destroy the life of her cheating husband, torture the home wrecker, seek revenge and save her son!

By accident, she discovered a handsome devil inside her jade gourd and was forced to acknowledge him as her master. What troubled her more was that her first appearance in the public caused her to be surrounded by numerous handsome men such as the cool and mysterious Prince Nan, her cruel but strong master Tianpi, and the kind and graceful Medical Saint…

Tianyuan continent was the continent of Qi Art and Spirit Summoning Art… Watch how Hua Qiyue master the two Arts, defeat her rivals and solve one mystery after another…

- Description from Novelupdates

Dionis endured soul-wrenching torment at the hands of his bullies, enduring daily humiliations and brutal beatings that left his spirit in pieces. However, one decisive day, he resolved to transcend his past, striving to transform into a man of dignity and worthiness, shedding the chains of degradation. His transformation journey encompassed both mental and physical training.

After defeating those who once tormented him and reclaiming his dignity, he peacefully graduated from middle school, progressing to high school. But as he stood at this new point, an emptiness gnawed at his soul.

“Why do I miss that feeling?” he pondered aloud.

“I forced myself to become a weapon, yet now i lie dormant,” he added.

Thus, Dionis, reaching out for something that gave him thrill and enjoyment, he entered the world of illegal businesses, trying to get back the excitement he felt back in middle school.

He entered the world of illegal business blind, yet Dionis utilized his brilliant mind to emerge as a formidable presence, evoking fear and commanding a growing following. The birth of a shadowy organization marked his ascent to evil, conquering everything in his path.

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Ji Yan discovered his wife, who hated him so much that she wished he was dead, had lost her memory after a car crash. She had changed so much it was like she was a totally different person…

“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.