The Immortal Cultivation World of Male Inferiority and Female Supremacy - Chapter 33 - : 33. The style suddenly went awry.

“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.

The day Louis discovered his girlfriend's betrayal, he died from a gunshot wound to the head. Fortunately, fate smiled on him and allowed him to be reincarnated in a magical world as the youngest son of an SSS-class family.That same day, he awakened his Class—an event that should have marked the beginning of his rise.Instead, it marked his downfall.[Ding! You have awakened an SSS-Rank Class.][Class: God of Money][Rank: SSS]A god? Yes, that's beautiful. But a god of money? In the eyes of his proud family, that title was a joke—an insult. The weakest, most useless Class imaginable.So, they banished him, stripped him of the family name, and cast him aside without a second thought.But they were unaware of his skill, abilities, and the potential that money could bring.He smiled as he saw himself banished and looked at the system.“If you fire me, it's okay. I'll keep creating missions even if I end up in a garbage dump, and I'll come back for your heads someday.”Two system messages flashed before him.[Your actions generate money, and money makes you stronger.][You have the ability to create missions.]Under the influence of his newly acquired Class, he will delve into all the magical paths this world offers, become embroiled in political intrigue, and conquer kingdoms on his own.“Money? I'm the God. Women?” That's fine—I have plenty.

Business tycoon Ji Lingchen swore not to take a wife. He didn’t even have scandals to his name.

Until one day, when a wife was forced upon him, Young Master Ji began a new chapter in his life!

Assistant Jiang: Young Master Ji, Madam trashed Zhang Manor. Ji Lingchen: Get more people to help her out. Assistant Jiang: Uhm…

Ji Lingchen: Wait, has she calmed down? Assistant Jiang: No. Ji Lingchen: Inform the board to start the project of acquiring Zhang Group!

Assistant Jiang: Young Master Ji, Madam beat up Young Master Wei, and now he’s hospitalized. Ji Lingchen: Has she had enough?

Assistant Jiang: Doesn’t seem like it. Ji Lingchen: Let her continue. One day, Ji Lingchen learned that Fang Xiaonuan had gotten into another fight. He slammed the table and got up.

“Fang Xiaonuan, are you asking for a beating?” Fang Xiaonuan retorted, “Darling, you’ve changed. You didn’t use to be this way…”

Ji Lingchen pointed to her protruding belly and said, “You were alone before this!”

To be fighting when she was seven months pregnant not only frightened her opponent, but she also scared the wits out of Ji Lingchen.

Yet, Fang Xiaonuan was feeling pleased that she managed to win without a fight!

Fang Xiaonuan’s anger subsided and she stared at Ji Lingchen with puppy dog eyes as if she had been badly bullied. “

You win. You rascal, can you wait until the little rascal is safely born before you go fighting again?”

For a million worth of contract, she became a surrogate mother.

He was the chief executive of the Empire and she was of lowly birth. With her adoptive father’s business falling into crisis, she agrees to his contract.

She gave birth to twins: the older brother is healthy, while the younger brother didn’t breathe out. Fulfilling the contract with a huge monetary sum as the reward, she disappeared from his eyes.

Six years later – he was still the cold high-profile president, but when she is accidentally imprisoned in the cage of his golden birds he pressured her harder and harder: “Woman, do not think you can escape my hands!”

The old-fashioned man: “Mu Yazhe, you’d better leave her alone, this is the child’s mother!” The man becomes frightened, questioning the reason this child’s features bears such resemblance to…