The Gentleman at the End - Chapter 20 - Night Talk

As the Martial Arts Emperor, live-streaming superstar, and kung fu megastar, Wu Li says: 'Sanda, boxing, judo, Muay Thai, Jeet Kune Do, karate...whatever you practice, in the martial arts there are just two words: one horizontal, one vertical; if you do it right, you stand; if you do it wrong, you lie down.'......When Wu Li gains a martial arts system and discovers that live-streaming is the way to get stronger,【The number of live-stream viewers breaks through a hundred thousand, gaining a hundred thousand fan points】【Spend fan points to upgrade Baji Fist to master level】【Spend fan points to exchange for the passive skill 'Muscle Man'】......Wu Li: 'When the whole world is watching my live stream, I am the strongest man in the world!'

Sa Bina was on her way to write her SAT when she suddenly finds herself in a strange world. She is sent to be the old emperor’s concubine, but on their wedding night, the emperor gets murdered by no one other than his own son and the heir! To survive, Bina makes a deal with beautiful but deadly Lucretius and her life in this dangerous kingdom begins.

Kael, a reclusive and antisocial man, died alone in his apartment, consumed by frustration and regret. But his tale didn't end in darkness. Reborn in the unforgiving world of Eridoria, where the law of the jungle reigned supreme and apes were eerily absent, Kael found himself in the body of a lion cub with a unique bloodline.This was no ordinary rebirth; he was a lion unlike any other. Thrust into the complex web of pride dynamics and social hierarchy, Kael must navigate treacherous alliances, rivalries, and his own primal instincts. With a fierce determination burning within, he sets his sights on a singular goal: to claim the title of the ultimate King of Beasts.Warning: R18, incest, harem, neutral MC, violence.

“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.