I Became An Immortal On Mortal Realm - Chapter 322 - 319 The Name of the Dao Sect, The Great Emperor of Divine Beings

Yuan Ye and film emperor Fang Shaoyi were married for ten years. After a stamp from the Ministry of Civil Affairs, they got divorced and their red booklets became green booklets. Back when they had gotten married, they had proudly announced the news to the whole world. After their divorce, though, neither dared to speak up, determined to hide this development.

“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.

[40,000 Words Before Lock-In] [R-18] [No NTR] [Smut] [Legal Teens] [Single MILFs] [Feisty GILFs] [Dangerously Funny]Renowned worldwide as Everyman, Joji Sins dominated the adult industry for decades, winning Best Adult Actor four years straight from 2010 to 2028, and building a strange kind of public love through quiet philanthropy despite his dirty reputation.Thirty years later, Joji is seventy seven, nearly completely deaf, and no longer in front of the camera. He did not get washed away. He retired into power instead, directing the scenes himself and still going strong.On the side, he even earned a proper medical license and became a real doctor.Then one ordinary day turns cruel. A broken light bulb. A ladder slip. A back that almost snapped wrong.The hospital discharges him three days later like he is already finished.His stomach grumbled after being in such a gloomy environment. A hotdog for a dollar across the road. Not too bad of a deal.After almost getting hit by a rearing armored truck, he got his change from a fan.Fucking finally you thought? Wrong.A runaway truck hurtles toward him.Joji breathes in relief. He is alive, just scraped up, glass shards biting into his wrinkled skin.Then something sprays his face. The stink is sharp, hard alcohol. His eyes track the source. Unleaded gasoline is gushing nearby.“Mother fu...”...Joji gasps and wakes. An unfamiliar bed. Gaudy ceiling ornaments. Steel clashing outside. A splitting headache.Memories that are not his punching through his skull. As he reaches for reality, a cold presence snaps into place before his eyes.{Welcome, good Sir Joji of Sins.}

“Your Highness, there’s something I’d really like for my birthday.”

“What is it?”

“Will you promise to listen?”

Then the man blatantly laughed.

But who would point out his arrogance – a young Northern Duke who’s not even afraid of the Emperor? He could even get a throne if he wished for it.

But it was just a sweet lover’s birthday wish.

“Alright. I swear.”

So, Juliet spoke lightly,

“Please break up with me. I don’t love you anymore.”

A fiance just for show. A succession of meaningless nights.

Now is the time to end seven years of unrequited love.