MTL - I Just Wanted To Retire and I Was Forced To Become a General - v2 Chapter 1138 One-armed guy? Armless guy!

Jian Wushuang was reborn in adversity. In order to get his revenge, he began to cultivate Heavenly Creation Skill. With the help of the Heaven defying cultivation method, Jian Wushuang gradually grew into a peerless genius from an ordinary practitioner. With a sword in hand, no one is his match. Using his extraordinary Sword Principle, he killed all his opponents and eventually became number one Sword Master from time immemorial.

Read the first chapter. You will probably like it. ;)

After being adopted by the Su family for so many years, Su Yan had always been grateful to them for raising her.

Within the walls of her family, she was filial, kind, and did everything she could to please her family. Outside those walls, she and her fiancé, Huo Nan, were on par with each other. They were an immortal couple that was respected by all. She loved Huo Nan to the core and even gave up her kidney for him.

This continued until the real daughter of the Su family, Su Qian, returned. Huo Nan betrayed Su Yan and climbed into Su Qian’s bed. He even allowed Su Qian to wantonly frame her and disfigure her!.

Su Qian even slandered Su Yan for seducing her fiancé. The Su family believed her and insulted Su Yan with the most unpleasant words in the world. However, they forgot that before Su Qian returned, Huo Nan was Su Yan’s rightful fiancé!

After she was killed, Su Yan was reborn to her 18th birthday and started her crazy path of revenge. Step one, inherit assets worth billions; step two, kick the scumbag to his death; step three, personally slice her white lotus of a younger sister.

In this life, all she wanted was to live an ordinary life with her blind and lame husband. After all, this man continued to help her willingly in her past life even though she rejected him countless times while her dearest husband betrayed her so ruthlessly!

“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.