I Am the Mentor of Spider-Man - Chapter 12: Shocking Information

SMUT & HAREM!Damon was reincarnated into a magical fantasy world with his previous life's memories intact.Damon became the a half Primordial Incubus Demon- Half Divine Dragon and was the son of the Grand Duchess of the Divine Demon Empire.At this moment, Damon obtained the Divine Sign- in system.[ Ding! Congratulations for Signing in the Body Of Chaos ][ Ding! Congratulations for Signing in the Eyes of Oblivion ][ Ding! Congratulations for Signing in the Divine Blood-soaked Sword ]Watch Damon's adventures as in the Mythological World of Austonia as he slays all his enemies on the way to becoming the strongest of them all.( There will be SMUT )

Earth Immortals are cultivated from a blessed land.

Heaven Immortals move to and from the divine mountains.

I have a stalk of plum blossom, and I shall plunder the Will of the Heavens with it!

- Description from Novelupdates

A nuclear war ushered in the prosperity of human evolution! The higher the bloodline level, the stronger! The young Mo Tian, ​​awakened at the beginning of the S-class King Kong is not bad blood, incarnates the big muscle tyrant, killing all the way! If you are reasonable with me, be reasonable, and if you are not reasonable, you will be blown away!

The blood of King Kong is not bad for the first time to return to the ancestors…the second time to return to the ancestors…the Nth time to return to the ancestors, the blood of Pangu! (The killing is decisive, the extreme way pushes the flow horizontally, if you are not a virgin, do not enter if you are not happy)…

- 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.