MTL - If You Can’t Be a Son-in-law, You Have To Be Sanctified - Chapter 102 Why do mortal stars have to be in the sky?

An ordinary soul from Earth mysteriously transmigrates into One Piece World. What's more, he was presented with a Gift Pack from God.

Follow his journey, from being a slave to an extraordinary existence that everyone fears.

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After transmigrating, a talented young woman became the black sheep of the Gu family. People even tried to cut her open and take her son away. Five years later, she returned with a cute baby.

She chuckled at the title of black sheep that she was given.

Everyone wanted the medicinal pills that she made!

She designed the most expensive jewelry in the capital!

She opened the biggest fine-dining restaurant in the country!

Even the most mysterious Island of No Return belonged to her!

Ms. Gu and her son drank and ate good food while they entertained themselves by humiliating others. Life was great!

However, one day, a man suddenly pinned her against the door. “How dare you steal my son?”

Hehe. Did he want to take her son away?

“Close the door and release the hounds!”

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The gods of the divine realm are hypocritical, and the evil souls master dominate the human world.Both the soul beast race and the human race are like grass.Su Yu emerges from the mundane world, stepping over countless evil bones, ascending to the supreme divine throne.With ice sealing the false Gods, and the God King’s seal ruling all beings.PS1: No fawning over Tang San, no fawning over Huo Yuhao, and the protagonist is not a nanny.PS2: The setting is based on Douluo Dalu 1-3 and Divine Realm Legends, not adopting the Douluo Dalu 4 setting.

“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.