MTL - Survival In the Wilderness: My Luck is 100 Million Points - Chapter 1275

The world is a sea of bitterness.

The mortal swims in the sea.

The body is the vessel.

The soul is the mortal on the vessel.

The vessel carries the mortal as it sails endlessly towards the other side of the sea.

Does cultivating the body strengthen the vessel enough to reach the other side of this sea of misery?

Or does cultivating the soul give the mortal on the vessel the ability to master swimming?

Cultivating according to the martial path allows one to become an Earthly Immortal.

Cultivating according to the immortal path allows one to become a Divine Immortal.

Which path should be chosen?

- Description from Novelupdates

Death is sometimes not the end!
Dead prison!
This is a magical prison. It has the ability to draw the souls of the dead people of the world, and it also enables people to gain the ability of the souls of the dead.
When Qin Song woke up, he was shocked to find that he had come to the world of One Piece, and even more surprised that he found a prison in his body…..

- Description from Uukanshu

“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.

Terminally ill before even reaching the age of 40, Song Nuanyi awaited a gloomy end. Her death just happened to clash with her son’s wedding. Yet, her children, who she painstakingly raised, her mother-in-law, who she served for so many years, and her husband, who she exchanged vows with to love and cherish forever, none of them noticed her. When they finally discovered her corpse, they simply said, “Just bury it.”

Everyone else went on to enjoy the wedding while her funeral was empty with no visitors. No, one person did come. She watched as the person she despised cried his heart out in front of her grave, revealing his love for her. The sorrow in his voice made tears well up in her eyes.

When she opened her eyes again, she had returned in time to the day before her wedding. The memories of her past life were still vivid in her mind. She hurried to the race track and found the man to blurt out, “I’m getting married tomorrow. Don’t you want to crash the wedding? Don’t you want to steal me away?”

The man was stunned before snickering. “Ms. Song, did you hit your head?” She added insistently, “I’m asking you one last time, are you brave enough to come?” The man did not answer but pulled out a credit card instead. “Ms. Song, if something is wrong with your head, go and have it checked.” She took the card and said, “I’ll take this as your betrothal gift.”

Having said that, she left. The man was dumbstruck, as he never expected her to take his card.

News of the self-righteous young lady of the Song family seeking out the capital’s number one playboy, Young Master Jin, spread quickly. Someone asked the man what happened, but he just blew a whistle and said, “Come along with me tomorrow. We have a big business to do.”

Song Nuanyi was anxious because she did not know when he started liking her in their past life. Would he even show up tomorrow?

Character Setting:

Song Nuanyi – self-righteous, aloof, noble young lady

Wu Chenjin – frivolous, dandy, young master