MTL - If You Don’t Fall In Love, You’ll Die - Chapter 52

He is the Lord of the Heavenly King Hall, the old Kunlun monster, and the Stay-Home dad. Let’s see the cultivation adventure of an invincible dad.

Dear readers! Fresh green style, maybe you will like it more in .

Waking up in an unfamiliar world with no memories, I had only one advantage—a mind filled with knowledge of fictional tropes, clichés, and common sense learned from countless novels.At first, I thought I was trapped in a romcom nightmare when I started triggering events like “Helping a Girl on a Rainy Day”, “Damsel in Distress”, and “Tripping Into the Heroine’s Arms.” Naturally, I shut those nonsense down before they could escalate. No forced romances. No misunderstandings. No cringe.But something was clearly off.The world wasn’t just a slice-of-life comedy.Beneath the cliché academy setting, there were whispers of awakening powers, hidden dangers, and a brutal magic academy entrance exam.And every challenge I prevented or manipulated was an opportunity to grow stronger.[Title Earned: Background Character.][Achievement Unlocked: Firm Mind.][New Skill Acquired: Background Character's Aura.][New Ability Acquired: Anti-Narrative Influence.]I may be just a background character, but if fate insists on throwing these events at me, I’ll turn them into stepping stones.Let the protagonists play their scripted roles—I have my own path to power.

“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.

Luo Qiu became the boss of a ‘club’ by chance.

It was a weird club that sold strange items and with a servant girl that had 300 years of working experience. Countless people with dreams, hopes and ambitions came to the club to exchange anything precious they own for what they want. They would offer their lifespan, items, and even their soul. Every successful trade would increase Luo Qiu’s lifespan by a little.

“Tribute successful, your lifespan has increased by 99 years.”

As thus, Luo Qiu began his endless life as the club’s boss.