Lord of the Secret Art! - Chapter 676: unblock five times

Varian only wanted to end the war with the Abyssals and bring peace so that no one would lose their dad like he did.

Kazekaze thought he was just an ordinary kid in the world of Naruto.- No Sharingan.- No Byakugan.- No Ōtsutsuki bloodline.Just a normal seven-year-old trying to survive in a ninja-filled world.That was… until his father brought him back to Konoha.And he discovered the terrifying truth:* Senju Hashirama, the God of Shinobi, is his grandfather!* Senju Tobirama, the Creator of Ninjutsu, is his great-uncle!With the blood of legends flowing through his veins, Kazekaze must rise to become a shinobi worthy of his lineage.A Genius Among Monsters—But Can He Surpass Them?

“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 ancient Buddha's head was stolen by a monster with a human body and a sheep's head.The Ghost buried an eye in the Buddha's temple, and from then on, the world's fire was extinguished, and darkness engulfed the continent.To combat the Ghost' invasion, the gods of day and night were born between heaven and earth.This is a narrative passed down for generations by storytellers.What was the true nature of the ancient Buddha, the Ghost, and the wandering gods of day and night on the once great continent?Perhaps, traces can be found in a troupe named 'Zhou Family Troupe.'The Zhou Family Troupe,is a troupe that performs operas specifically for the dead...