Immortal Taoist Lord: My Cultivation Have No Limits - Chapter 1199 - 444 Leaving the Cultivation World? Utter Chaos_2

She lost her voice, her child, and her dignity... but now she’s back—with a voice the world can’t ignore.Four years ago, Cecilia Morrison was left bleeding and betrayed after giving birth to a child labeled a “bastard” by her fiancé and family. Mute, humiliated, and abandoned, she vanished with one child and a shattered heart.Now, she returns to Star City, no longer the fragile girl they discarded, but a graceful woman with fire in her veins and her sweet daughter by her side. Her mission is clear: to find the son who was stolen from her.Steven Lawrence, the city’s most powerful man, has been relentlessly searching for the elusive world-famous singer, Raine. He also happens to be the father of a boy who looks exactly like Cecilia's daughter.When the twins finally come face to face, buried secrets begin to surface, and enemies from the past scramble to cover their tracks before Cecilia and Steven expose the truth together.Will she finally reunite with her missing child?What is the real connection between her and Steven?And when the world discovers her hidden identity, what will it bring?

Eight Thousand Years after the Glassing of Earth, Terran Descent Humanity has largely become a post-scarcity society based on consent and enjoying life. With the discovery of another ancient race beyond the “Great Gulf”, events and history collide to draw the Terran Confederacy into war against a hundred million year old empire that has always won and believes it always will. With allies and enemies of multiple species, the Orion Galactic Arm Spur will be wracked by warfare the likes of which have not been seen. Cracked, harried, wounded, and damaged, Terran Descent Humanity willfully throws itself against the universe itself. “The universe hates you and will take away everything you love, laughing while it does so.” - Terran belief.

Reborn in a parallel world, he became a rookie fishing channel host.On the first day of fishing, he caught a corpse, unexpectedly solving a major case.On the second day, he caught a broken radio, miraculously receiving a broadcast from the future.On the third day, he caught a book of intrinsic skills, casually practicing it and becoming a supreme master.On the fourth day, he caught a string of ancient coins, uncovering a thousand-year-old sunken ship.......On the nth day, he caught a nuclear submarine.Fang Hao was baffled.Why couldn't he catch a fish but instead caught all sorts of strange things???The online audience was also stunned. When would he actually catch a real fish?

“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.