MTL - I Conquered the Universe With Acting - Chapter 62 .62nd performance

For five years, I've lived the life of a failure. Smashing my hands against the wooden target in hopes of entering a meditative state; a necessary step to becoming a cultivator.For five years, I've faced nothing but disappointment, looks of pity, and meager attempts at encouragement.But everything has to come to an end. An end, that for me, became a new beginning!Circuits, wires, and capacitors? Or maybe spirit powder, Spricur crystals, and Qi gathering formations?In a world where cultivation is, for most, merely a hobby and the worlds of mysticism and science are divided, I shall be the one to craft a bridge between the two!Why rely on ancient arrays to harness dense Qi? Isn't it easier to buy one of my converters, plug it into the wall, and be done with it?Is your gaming console malfunctioning, yet no tech shop can find the cause? Have you tried this the exorcising swatter 3.0?And you! Yes, you, the one whose reflection appears on the screen on your phone once you block it! Why would you buy static figurines if you can come to my shop... And get your hands on waifus that will actively flirt with you?Come all ye troubled souls, and allow this God to craft a solution to all your problems!

In the far future humanity is threatened by monstrous beings called kaiju now humans have expanded across the galaxy with the development of new techniques and fleets of mechs.Alto a young boy with dreams of becoming a great mech pilot is forced to be a mech designer. He finds a strange technology that opens his eyes to the vast secrets of the galaxy, now with a new purpose Alto must become something the world has never seen before.A/N: Just wanna do a good sci-fi book

As a graduate with a double degree from a prestigious university, Feng Jun somehow remains unemployed after graduation. He struggles in the city, but he can’t let go of his pride. It’s easy to imagine the difficult situation he finds himself in.However, everything change after one day—he and his phone are struck by lightning and he suddenly discovers that he can turn into ‘DATA’ and enter the applications in his phone.What can he do afterwards? Harvest plants in QQ farm? See other people’s hidden photos and posts on WeChat? Become a character in a mobile game? Use your imagination! Wait a minute, change the deposited amount in his mobile banking app? Stop there, that can’t be changed at will!With absolutely more adventures than the ones listed above, he also realizes that he can even freely enter Eastern cultivation novels.Let’s follow Feng Jun and embark on a wonderful journey of immortal cultivation!

“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.