Titan King: Ascension of the Giant - Chapter 53: Night stalkers

The fallen ones, strange monsters that showed up on earth with the sole purpose of destroying everything and ruling over humans.Only one man remained during the onslaught, his name, was Rashin Montero.“Do you wish to live or die?”The question appeared before him.“Kill me assholes!”He died.A hundred years passed and Rashin finds himself alive in the future.It turned out he was saved by a stray angel, and was granted a powerful energy that allowed him to stand on equal footing with the monsters that once wanted to take over earth.In his new future, the world has been restored to what it ones was, a huge shield was placed around the world to keep the Hakiaas out.Heroes were summoned to defend the world against these monsters during the Countdown, while the monsters could not be killed or harmed, they could still be sent back to their world.Or at least, until Rashin arrived.[Blacksmith System activated. Welcome host.][Initializing core functions... Complete.][Congratulations, you have gained a new blue paint (Large sword.)][Stella blade has passed all requirements to evolve.][Evolving to human form can now be processed.][Congratulations, you have gained a unique core, your weapons can now undergo fusion.]Having a system that allowed him to craft weapons of all kind, Rashin enters this new world trying to survive while also remembering part of his memories.Not just that, he can also turn every weapon he makes into beautiful overpowered maidens capable of killing the Hakiaas aka fallen ones.

This is the story of a poor young man whose poverty even shreds apart their family willing to climb his way through society and into the top

After transcending to a new world, Ye Xuan miraculously obtained the Swallowing System.

“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.