MTL - The Secret of the Seal - Chapter 2294 At a critical juncture!

What do you mean by you only accept female disciples?Zhang Yuan glanced at the Emperor of a powerful Dynasty kneeling in front of him and his son, the prince is also kneeling beside him.“Master Yuan, please accept my son as your disciple. I am sure that under your care, my son will reach the pinnacle of the Heavens.”Pinnacle of the Heavens? Zhang Yuan turned his gaze to the so called Prince. Talentless, weak physique and sh!t cultivation technique.Tch, worthless.Zhang Yuan then turned his eyes to another Dynasty Emperor “Master Yuan, please accept my daughter as your disciple.”Seeing the gorgeous woman kneeling in front of him, Zhao Tian smiled faintly.Talentless? I will make you the most talented mortal entity this world has ever seen.Weak physique? I will give you a physique that will break even the limitations of the heavens and earth.Sh!t cultivation technique? Don't worry, choose the best divine technique you want.Sorry but I only accept female disciples!

Chen Ran was reborn, back in 2003.

“Ding, congratulations to the host for activating the football manager system.”

“Ding, the system has acquired the British Championship team Crystal Palace Football Club as a novice gift package.”

Chen Ran, who got a football club at the beginning, was not satisfied.

His goals are bigger,

It’s not just about running a club,

That way the layout is too small.

He has already begun to imagine,

In the future, children with football talents will be selected from China, and then brought to the football league with the highest level in the world for training, training and competition.

Fight for the rise of Chinese football!

And the Crystal Palace Club can just do this springboard.

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.

A 40-year-old man suddenly dies and is reincarnated in a world devastated by zombies—but instead of becoming a hero or a survivor, he wakes up as a zombie girl.