MTL - Cultivation Starts From Simplifying the Exercises - Chapter 534 Exploring Qingming on the top, and searching on the underworld

Xie Jin is an international student studying in the United States. Because of an accident, he obtained a special ability that allows him to detect the attributes of all objects within a certain range. Because of this ability, he started from panning for gold and gradually went to the country of Bald Eagle. The pinnacle of wealth. (No abuse, no depression, logical, straightforward and reasonable road to the rise of North American chaebols)

- Description from novelbuddy

[Ding! Sorceress Beauty Merlin from Camelot has added you to a chat group full of beautiful maidens!][Ding! You've claimed the title of Supreme Demon Lord!][Ding! Fairy Queen Ophelia tagged you in a post!][Ding! Medusa sent you some of her spicy videos, shut your blinds before watching!][Ding! Your dog has been transformed into the Ancient Black Dragon Veligrpyh!]James Kang, once the youngest heir to the multi-trillion-dollar Hart Global Corporation, has everything anyone could dream of: money, luxury, and freedom. But his life is hollow—friends are fake, family distant, and his days are a blur of shallow extravagance.One late, lonely night, James gets a notification:[Congratulations! You have been added to the Ancient Multiverse Chatroom!]Thinking it's some cringy online role-playing game, he decides to entertain himself and plays along, proclaiming himself the “Supreme Demon Lord.”The group, filled with titles like:[Princess of the Azure Seas][Dragon Emperor of Ashvale][Goblin Slayer Supreme][High Priestess of the Sun][Fafnir, the Pet Wyvern]And they seemed hilariously invested in their roles.What starts as a joke takes a bizarre turn.The more James participates, the more he notices strange phenomena: glowing runes on his skin, magic artifacts materializing from nowhere, an elder dragon in his garage, and a sudden mastery of dark magic.Things escalate when a private group chat, run by a perverted female King Arthur, invites him to [The Table of Beauties], a circle of god-tier roleplayers… or so he thinks.Soon, James learns the truth.The chat is an interdimensional nexus connecting real worlds where magic, legends, and gods exist. His casual banter and fake roleplay have turned him into a living, breathing Demon Lord, complete with a castle in Hell, loyal monster armies, and reality-warping powers.To make matters even crazier, his “friends” start visiting Earth, and they’re nothing like he imagined!

It was one thing to have my hands and feet securely tied, but why was my mouth also sealed? I should at least have been ...It was one thing to have my hands and feet securely tied, but why was my mouth also sealed? I should at least have been able to make a noise! Why was I confined in a mental asylum? Why did it seem like everyone was afraid of me? Why... do I feel like laughing?----------------This is a story where Holmes and the Joker wreak havoc on the SCP Foundation. I hope everyone will enjoy it!

“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.