Taking the Mafia to the Magic World - Chapter 711 Worrying About the Future

On his way home from work, an ordinary man from Earth stumbles upon a bizarre scene—a chaotic battle in the sky, with people flying and clashing over a shimmering golden sphere. Holding his can of Coke, he mutters in disbelief, “This is Coke, right?” Shrugging off the absurdity, he tosses the can and walks away.But fate has other plans. In the next instant, something strikes his head, and he dies on the spot.When he wakes, it’s not in the afterlife but in a completely different world—reborn as a baby. Unbeknownst to him, the golden sphere that caused his death has merged with his Sea of Souls: the The Infinite Fortune Core, a heaven-defying treasure capable of altering destiny itself.Years later, as he uncovers the core’s secrets, he realizes its boundless potential.With this gift, his journey from an unassuming mortal to a ruler who defies gods, demons, and the heavens begins. Armed with this treasure, he will walk the path to ultimate supremacy and carve his name across eternity.“I may have been an ordinary man, but now? I am limitless.”***he will gain his Cheat on 5 or 6 Chaps, so be Patient guys

In space, isolation is a slow killer. Company quickens the pace.Waking up adrift in an ancient battleground, Alex is left dazed and confused with no clue how she ended up trapped aboard a failing vessel. With only a mysterious voice in her head to guide her she must act in order to survive.Every piece of the puzzle she collects only leads to more questions about her origins and the star she's trapped around might not be as deserted as she first thought.All she knows for sure is that she could die at any minute, but Alex is not going to go down without a fight.

Catching arrows, running up walls, crushing boulders and bending metal, these are but petty parlour tricks in the eyes of martial artists. But where can a genuine martial artist stand in an era where martial artists are nothing more than a myth?

“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.