MTL - After Fishing For 10 Years, I Became A Saint Without Knowing How To Raise Beasts - Chapter 326 Who are you?

After transmigrating to a world similar to Earth, Jiang Qiao was approached by a former goddess—Ocean Blue. As Bluestar is also on the verge of collapse from invaders of other worlds, Jiang Qiao must find a way to save this one. With the ability to create a virtual game world, he creates the world of Sacred Souls. In order for this new world to grow, it has to devour other worlds. Thus, the greediest, most cunning, and horrible beings came into existence—Players.

When Li Shen’s second personality acts out, her consciousness is sent to a strange place called Split Zone No.13. She is then informed that she can only return home after unraveling the truth.

Yours Truly shall have all of you bow down to me!

Arriving in this brand-new world, Lin Fan found himself in possession of a system which allows him to level up indefinitely unbounded by the limitations of this world. Upon learning a powerful technique of Monkey Steals Peaches, Lin Fan realises that he’s poised to literally become the strongest person in this entire world. But of course, how boring would that be unless the whole world gets to know about his great name?

Shameless. Righteous. Smart. Lin Fan will let no one (or balls) stand in his way to glory!

Hilarious for all the wrong reasons and exciting for all the right ones, this novel will definitely have you roaring out in laughter and set your blood pumping all at the same time. Join us in this rollercoaster of a masterpiece with Lin Fan and his trusty sidekicks as he shows the world what it truly means to be YOURS TRULY.

There is a person, whose entire life is a legend. There is a person, whose extraordinariness radiates from his brows There is a person, his name is Lin Fan. Everybody: “Lin Fan, I want to have your babies.” A dominating life of unrestrained swag needs no explanation.

“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.