My Cultivation Starting from Archery - Chapter 108 Immortal Treasure Strange Fire

In short: an old lover gave me a little piglet.

Qin Zhuopu, a workaholic, has been single for many years. As he reaches middle age, his family is desperate for a child.

Until one day…

“Mr. Qin, your son is already in primary school!”

“???” I have only had one boyfriend!

Seven years after the breakup, the old lover returned to the wealthy family with a little fat pig in his arms: “Zaizai is a big eater, I can’t feed him. Zaizai’s primary school homework is too difficult, I can’t do it. I’ll give you guardianship from now on! Will you let me go to your construction site to move bricks? Son, say ‘Mommy’!”

Mr. Qin: (No, I couldn’t give birth to such a fat kid!)

Later…

Onlookers: I heard that Mr. Qin has adopted an illegitimate child born to his old lover by some woman?

Mr. Qin: Let me introduce to you, this is my own cub!

- Description from Novelupdates

In an era where humans and demons compete in fierce battles for survival, the Hero has fallen.“…I will take your place.”Thus began the deception of the fake Hero.If exposed, it could mean the destruction of humanity.…But the imposter is just too good at it.[Academia], [Professor], [Hero]

At the beginning, travel to the Holy Land Mary Joa and become a slave of the dragon people.

With the help of the Tianlong people’s “enthusiasm”, Chenos obtained the Devil Fruit that can rebound everything, won the favor of the Empress, learned to be domineering, and also gained the Golden Emperor as his younger brother.

Finally, in order to thank the Tianlong people for their “enthusiasm”, Chenos, who became the five emperors, decided to let them leave the Holy Land Mary Joa and experience the fun of the world!

[No system, no golden fingers, take the road of developing fruits, practicing physical skills and domineering, hoping to bring you a different world of pirates. ]

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.