Poison God's Heritage - Chapter 472 Hunter And Prey

Zixu woke up to find himself in the world of *Naruto*.Too weak to survive? No problem—he has the Kaido template.Unfamiliar with the *Naruto* world and clueless about ninjutsu? No worries—devouring Sarutobi Hiruzen's soul will take care of that.Caught in the constant battles between ninja villages and struggling to protect himself? Simple—just start his own teaching faction.Lacking manpower? Short on talent? Easy—swing the hoe well, and no corner is too deep to dig.

Cultivating immortality was too hard, with no Spiritual Root, Wang Ba accepted his lot in life.

He chose to join a Sect, becoming a servant in charge of raising chickens.

But the moment he touched a chicken, he realized that his path to immortality might be a little different!

This is a story about a legend, of one that can never be forgotten.
Summer, first time down the mountains in 16 years, after being raised by his 3 masters and Fairy sister.

‘Why won’t you follow the Rules of society?’ The rules are the tool made by the strong, so I follow my own rules.

‘Why won’t you just use your brain instead of your brawn?’ Idiot! Have you ever seen anyone use their brain, to get back at an ant that bites them!? No, they just casually step on it.

‘Oh, everyone says you’re a first-class beauty huh?’ well, I’m sorry but even you are not qualified to be my wife. Only a ‘Summer class beauty’ is worthy enough!

‘My enemy is sick?’ Oh, don’t worry, even if you’re on your last breath and I feel it’s beneath me to slap shot you dead. I’ll just fix you up and then beat you!

‘Who am I?’

“I am Summer in the spring, the autumn, and the winter, I’m the world’s first above the heavens!”

Follow me, Summer Day as I step by step become known as the world’s first master, the world’s first doctor, the world’s richest man…… a lot of other world’s number one, but most importantly, The worlds happiest man.

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.