MTL - My Chief Husband, Too Mensao! - Chapter 3974 Is she a liar?

Ding Yue had just traversed into the Parallel World and flunked his College Entrance Examination.To avoid his parents' double-punishment, Ding Yue forged an admission notice, created a fake university website, and rented a space near University Town to discretely run a counterfeit university in hope of fooling his parents.Things didn’t go as expected.On the first day of the term, the registration scene of his fake university surprisingly turned out to be a big hit...PS: This is a story filled with light-hearted farming narrative, everyday life, extravagantly rich and talented characters, technology, and top students... Feel free to add it to your bookshelf if you like it, and don’t forget to leave a recommendation vote~

In a world where strength is law and the weak are trampled, Ezra Cain was destined for nothing—crippled, abandoned, and left to rot. But when death comes knocking, something awakens within him.[Primordial Evolution System Activated.]A forgotten power lost to time, capable of infinite growth, limitless evolution, and ultimate domination. From the ashes of his former self, Ezra begins his ascent—devouring monsters, absorbing abilities, and forging a path no being has ever walked. But power comes at a cost.Ancient gods stir in fear. Forbidden realms tremble. The strongest beings in existence move to eradicate him before he reaches his full potential. But Ezra is no pawn in their game—if the gods wish to stop him, then he will do what no one has dared before.He will evolve beyond them. He will devour them. He will become the first Primordial Overlord.The age of gods is over. His reign begins.

“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.