MTL - Record of Mortal’s Journey to Immortality: Immortal World - Chapter 74 problem occurs

While the blue light blossoms, the insignificant struggle at the bottom. He grasps the opportunity to change his fate and embarks on an unprecedented path…

Ye Zhi not only inherited the shabby house, but also the marriage agreement with a man. The man who met his true love disliked his fiancee in all ways and asked for divorce.

In order to express their guilt, the man’s family decided to make up for Ye Zhi. But she didn’t want a dime (single cent), so she left.

Next second, Ye Zhi was picked up by Rolls Royce.

Gu Ren, the son of the richest man, had a tough life and couldn’t live past 30 years. Only Ye Zhi, born on the cloudy day of the lunar year, could make him survive.

Ye Zhi and Gu Ren got married. Gu Ren gave her a bank card. All she has to do is——

Spend money for him! Squander his fortune!

Ye Zhi bought a Lamborghini for Gu Ren, but he had an accident as soon as he drove the car.

As soon as she bought some Hermes platinum bags for herself, Gu Ren signed a more than one billion worth of deal.

It turned out that the money could only be spent on herself. More she loses, the more prosperous Gu Ren became.

Since then, her life had changed completely. Her villa grandest in the Forbidden City .

The man thought that Ye Zhi, who had been divorced, must have suffered a lot. Until one day, he saw his former fiancee walking in the street, followed by a Rolls Royce.

Wait! Who is the man next to her?

This man is a super rich man hundreds of times richer than his family!

- Description from Novelupdates

«Grey, elemental affinity, zero» The Elder announced the result loudly.

“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.