MTL - Madam’s Identities Shocks the Entire City Again - Chapter 165 My sister's name is Qiao Nian

Traveling through the big world that covers the sky, awakening the sign-in system, and rejecting the rich woman’s pursuit at the beginning! Sign in to get a pair of pupils!

Sign in at Daleiyin Temple and get a five-star reward Emperor Seal!

Sign in in the Bronze Immortal Hall and get a seven-star reward for inextinguishable profound art!

Sign in on God and get a ten-star reward Fortune Jade Plate!

The ancient warriors, step on the restricted area, control life and death, and control reincarnation!

The heavens and the world, the rolling red dust, have left his footprints!

The legend of Emperor Xuantian began when the Nine Dragons pulled a coffin on Mount Tai!

- Description from novelbuddy

I was left paralyzed with only a month to live, but that “9-inch” part of me was still hard as a rock. Even the sickly beautiful schoolgirl couldn't resist my “pecker,” and to fulfill my dying wish, my sister even dressed up as a lady in black stockings to teach me how to “drill.” What's more outrageous, the hospital nurses wanted to make a little movie with me, lining up with the head nurse at the front...Just after coming out of the emergency room, I saw the system panel:Name: Ethan JonesGender: MaleLength: 9 inchesSkill: Hard as a Rock LV1Note: Peak human hardnessDying Wish: To caress auntie's sheer black stockingsTask Reward Points: 1000 pointsDespite my strength and stamina attributes being only at 1, and my agility at 0, only my “pecker” could lift the heavy blanket while doing squats. My face was full of question marks—what kind of bug is this system? Just because I like looking at auntie's legs, did it give me such a special skill?Now, I have no choice. I must complete tasks to earn points and add attribute points.However, the story actually begins 12 hours earlier...

When Han Kain woke up, he and several other people were inside a mysterious hotel with different rules and different expectations.Going into each hotel room threw them into other worlds and scenarios where they must brace death at times to escape or lift the curse of the individual rooms for a chance to bring everyone that died during the process back to life.Using their blessings that were given at the time of entry, they have to weave their way through the rooms while sometimes sacrificing themselves for a higher likelihood of success.* Very little horror; more of a thriller

“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.