The Last Gentleman - Chapter 510: Special Preparations

Before his gruesome death, Gene Conti was one of the greatest icons of the 1960s. But after spending half a century in Hell, only gambling and the suffering of others excite him.Fortunately for him, his days of boredom are over. Having served his sentence, he finds himself in the body of a young man in the modern era.Now freed, Gene wishes to continue what he missed the most as a dead man: acting.Once again, he aspires to be an actor admired the world over.But will the angels and demons leave him alone? Will his bold attitude clash with the sensitive modern era? Or will the actor from Hell surrender to his lust for chaos and violence?

The man forsaken by the world, the man a slave to money and the man known as the legendary God of War in the highly popular MMORPG Continent of Magic. With the coming of age, he decides to say goodbye, but the feeble attempt to earn a little something for his time and effort ripples into an effect none could ever have imagined.

“Rascal, I’m going out to do something, so I can’t take care of you any more. You can go down the mountain and have fun. But if you can’t find someone who matches your Innate Pure Yang Body in three years, you’re finished!”

These were the last words the old man, who was Yang Luo’s teacher, threw to him before he vanished. Meanwhile, having mastered most of his master’s skills, Yang Luo went down the mountain and took his first step into civilization for the first time in years.

With his unparalleled medical and martial arts, he sets forth on a journey, befriending new allies and crushing all the enemies that stand in his way, as he attempts to resolve his Pure Innate Yang Body constitution, and cultivate to the top of the world!

Dear readers! Fresh green style, maybe you will like it more in .

“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.