MTL - Virtue is Abundant - Chapter 404 Take power!

# FATETang Li, a loner learned in the mystic arts, transmigrated into a book, becoming an overbearing CEO's wife who only ever thinks of running away and trying to kill him everyday, even cohaiting with a gigolo and ended up destroyed by the CEO.Tang Li was speechless, thinking to herself that the Host must be crazy to want a gigolo instead of a CEO who has money, looks, and size!Eventually, everyone noticed in surprise that she gave up on the gigolo and started competing for the family inheritance. Not only had she accepted one impressive disciple after another, she kept hovering over her husband as well."Darling, I think you're having indigestion, I made you warm soup.""Hold me, darling. I'm afraid of the thunder~"***Unable to hold it any longer, the overbearing CEO undid his belt while saying dangerously, "Tang Li, you made me fall for you, and I'll have you know how deep is my love right now!"Tang Li (I just wanted a husband): "..."Listen here, darling...

A number of university students are given a simple survey in which they must watch a number of short films and rank them in order of preference. The reader takes the survey along with them with the short films being told as short stories.

The Celestial War!A war that has been ongoing since time!Pyrrhus, the human god isn't left out. He's known for his might and greediness, conquering many stars and sectors!Kyle Lin, a boy of Zekkoa becomes the recepient of a system; one which Pyrrhus has sent as a help. Forced to reincarnate into a magic world, he must grow stronger as the world is at stake.Kyle must free himself of being a pawn and take power into his own hands. Witness his journey to become an Omni Mage!

“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.