MTL - I’ve Transmigrated Into This Movie Before - Chapter 150 What is God?

Xia Muqing is originally an archaeologist when she unexpectedly transmigrates. In another life, she becomes the useless daughter of a reputable family who is mocked and bullied by everyone. A brand new Xia Muqing is reborn from the ashes. From then on, she uses her skills and medical knowledge to subdue beasts and to seek revenge!

She uses poison to repay her sister who was born of her father’s mistress. She swears to make those who harmed and betrayed her pay with their blood!

Su Luo woke up to a pair of twins gathering around her bed joyfully calling her “Mommy!”

She had been single for more than twenty years now, how did she end up with children? What was going on?

Gu Zhan’s eyes were red as he said furiously. “Su Luo! You’re too much! You can dislike me all you want, fine, but you’re disowning your own children?

Su Luo, who suddenly became a b*tch. “Hey mister, I have plenty of questions myself!”

The two little ones cautiously tugged Su Luo’s sleeve as they said. “Mommy, we will be good children, please don’t disown us?”

Gu Zhan looked aggrieved. “Luoluo~”

Su Luo eyed the two poor little things and thought. “Alright then, I can become a mother without any pain. Plus, I have a handsome husband to boot. No harm done.”

[Character setting] Suo Luo: A scheming, cute money lover. Good at cooking and fighting. Have an unfriendly character. Gu Zhan: devoted, outwardly domineering, but a softie inside.

What happens when you realise that in a world of pill popping murderhobo young masters, the true path to cultivation is by making a whole lot of drugs?Let's find out.What to expect?- A lot of spirit animals and pokemon references about them!- Grenades! Nukes! EXPLOSIONS!- Life and Death cultivation stuff- Alchemy Drugs- Far too many memes

“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.