Peerless Martial God 2 - Chapter 1611: Zhou Chang Gui’s Plo

A soul was employed by a higher being to help him manage his world. How will our protagonist live her life to the fullest while also fulfilling her new duties?I don't own Naruto. I adjusted the story to my liking. English is not my main language so don't bother about grammar mistakes too much.

Fei Bai discovered through his boyfriend’s trumpet account that he had been wearing a green hat. Not long after the breakup, he recognized the third party in their school coffee shop.

The senior brother is handsome and tall, but it looks like… he’s not a 0.

When Fei Bai thought his ex might be doing zero for love behind his back, he became angry. He decided to take the initiative to seduce this senior brother so that his ex-boyfriend could also experience the taste of wearing a green hat.

The sky’s the limit. Fei Bai successfully seduced the third party. He walked side by side with this senior brother on the campus and bumped head-on unto his ex-boyfriend.

He thought the moment of revenge was coming, but in the next second, he learned that he had flirted with the wrong person. The senior brother beside him was not the mistress but the former president of his father’s company!

Fei Bai originally planned to apologize and run away, but he didn’t expect to be blocked in front of his home the next day.

The man he called senior brother pressed him against the wall and said in a low voice, “You are so good at seducing people. Who would let you go?”

- Description from Novelupdates

Xiao Yu, who was a student from modern Earth, accidentally transports to another world and becomes the lord of a territory. Facing an unfavorable situation, he vows to take back his family business, build his new territory, kill all of those who covet his wealth, and dominate the world!

“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.