MTL - Heavenly Monarch of All Times - Chapter 5 Concentrate on people

Grade Three Ironclad Battle Demon Ant (extremely rare species), with a lifespan of 30.5 years, possesses special abilities (immense strength, swiftness, armor-piercing, soul-eroding poison, moderate intelligence +, possesses mid-level carapace, demonization; in a demonized state, its speed increases fivefold, attack strength tenfold, defense fivefold).

Puppet Worker Ants can capture creatures of the same grade or lower.

Elephant Trunk Soldier Ants can release chemical substances to attack enemies…

(Main features include cultivation, breeding, insect taming, and cultivation.)

Mu Qing was struck by lightning and ended up traveling to the prehistory, 10,000 years in the past, where she began her days of cohabitation with ancient people ……

They were simple and thus perseverant; they were primitive but filled with affection; they were waiting for civilization but already wise beyond measure.

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[Mature Content]
'He was sin. A sin she was not supposed to commit to.'
—

The body of a mermaid is a vault of treasures. Their tears formed the most splendid of pearls, their exquisite blood a euphoric drug for vampires, their luscious hair woven into the finest of silk, and their tender meat sought after by werewolves more than Heaven’s ambrosia.

The creatures of night mingled within human society, fleeced in the wool of aristocracy, veiled in their portrayed innocence and nobility, their savagery continued to predate on the weak and powerless.

Genevieve Barlow, Eve for short, was an exceptionally strange young lady. She had an alluring and beguiling nature, where for her twenty-four year old self had barely changed in appearance since her eighteenth birthday. She had fooled the administration and had gotten a degree so that she could have a better life.

Most odd of all was that Eve had a secret she shared with no one.

She enters the house of Moriarty, not just to earn but also to find answers on what happened to her mother nearly two decades ago.

Unfortunately, things do not always proceed as one planned. Despite her cautious nature and desire to stay out of sight, a cold pair of eyes falls on her, that soon refuses to leave her out of sight.

“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.