My Cold and Elegant CEO Wife - Chapter 2460: Fighting with Immortal King

Jiang Xinyu transmigrates into the 1950s without parents. In a time of famine with nothing to eat?But she just wants to live the life of a happy-go-lucky slacker...So she has to roll up her sleeves and fight!Carrying space, full of blessings!Heaven's favor, what you think is what you get.While others starve, she gains weight, determined to live out the luck she didn't have in her previous life.

A tale about the former leader of a special organization that served under royalty, now leaving his past life behind and unintentionally getting involved with the martial world.

The convolution of worlds are govern by a set of gods, each god is given a world to rule and there can be skirmishes between them – as a result of one between Nexus, the god of trickery and a senile old hag Elliot reincarnated into Ul’Tra-el by mistake.Ul’Tra-el is a world that grew a voice, because of this voice, it began to take a different path from other worlds -- it was filled with a core anomaly – rifts.Dimensions began to leak into each other, vomiting outrageous monsters.In response or as an auto-correction to such anomaly, talents were awakened in the inhabitants of Ul’Tra-el and they gained tremendous power, for every rift they close down, they were rewarded massively by the voice of the world called Ul.In a hardcore world like this one, our MC (Northern) reincarnated as a talentless individual but in the face of a death and a head splitting revelation......when all hopes seemed lost.{System Notice}Your Soul cannot take a formSearching for Unique pattern ability for your soulsearching...search found.Unique System ability has been found...Unique System Ability [CopyCat] has been gained.Awakening Unique ability...Northern gained a talent copying system!...Follow Northern through his journey as he becomes the pinnacle of this world.This a story about a white-haired boy’s rise from rubbles!!

“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.