Murder the Dream Guy - Chapter 557 - Envy

Liu Feng unexpectedly possessed the ability to travel between two worlds. He also has a storage space and became a second-hand dealer of the two worlds.He began his life as a city lord in the other world when he used a glass from earth to purchase a city.This is a wonderful world in the cold weapon era. In this world, Liu Feng can see catgirls, fox girls, rabbit girls, and elven princesses any time he wants.Princess: Liu Feng’s city is the world’s most fortunate city.Princess: I will definitely move in and live there, even if I have to ** the status of a princess.Graduate: The technology and ideas used by Liu Feng’s city surpass this world by a thousand years.King: That place has the world’s tallest buildings and has the world’s strangest things. That place is the world’s wealthiest and most magical city.

Zhao Yu transmigrated to the body of a down-and-out loose cultivator in the Canglong Mountain range of the Cultivation World, and discovered that he had awakened the ability to devour the Dao fruits, which allowed him to enhance his cultivation talent by consuming heavenly materials and earthly treasures, as well as elixirs. Ultimately, through the power of devouring the path’s fruit and his own efforts, he became a colossus in the world of immortals.

Ye Fan accidentally obtained a billion crystal technology system, and since then, he has become out of control.

Android: You do n’t even have a mobile phone system. I want to make it impossible for you all!
Ye Fan: Sorry, I researched it out, it seems to be more powerful than yours!
BMW Benz: Our engines are famous all over the world!
Ye Fan: Sorry, I do n’t have an engine, I only have magnetic levitation, and the speed is only a few times that of yours. Do n’t worry, take your time!
…
Enemy: Is he still human?
Who can stop this!

- Description from Qidian

“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.