Permanent Martial Arts - Chapter 213 - Summons of Sages

16 years old-- most boys would be falling in love, as their hormones all rise to unprecedented levels. Most boys at Riley's age would have dreams; dreams that will slowly grow into passion. Riley, however, at age 16... killed the world's number 1 superhero.

I want to go to the fairy road, step on the gods, I want to be happy!
Repair the baby, cast the fairy body, and smash the fairy mark!
The starry sky opens, the gods fight, and the depths of Chen’s home are back!
I am Xiao Hua, this is the story of my god that I am in the world of immortality, creating souls, dying, dying, and not dying.

- Description from Uukanshu translation

[You have successfully devoured your target.][Your strength has increased by 250.][Your speed has increased by 200.][Your defense has increased by 300.] [You have acquired the Golden Immortal Bloodline.][You have acquired the Chaos Beast Physique.][Your cultivation has increased.][You have accumulated Madness.]The Era of Chaos is upon the Cosmos once more leading to various kinds of Chaotic Rifts spawning randomly.Meanwhile, a 26-year-old actor on Earth, Pascal Margrave, transmigrates into the body of Caelum Goldheart. Upon transmigration, he becomes the host of the World Devouring System - a system that allows Caelum to quickly become stronger by absorbing the power of anyone he kills.However, things are not so simple. Caelum quickly realizes that while he is the [Host] of the World Devouring System, he is not its true [Master]. Failing to complete the system's milestones within the designated time will lead to his soul being tortured in the Netherworld for all Eternity.Join Caelum on his journey as he attempts to take control of his own fate, uncovers the hidden plots around his transmigration and becomes the dominant power of the Cosmos.

“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.