MTL - Close to You - Chapter 98

Crying blood and tears, she pledged a poisonous vow. The gods did not fail her. She was sent back to a decade ago. The legitimate daughter of Jiang family returned from hell.

Forget it, whatever! Since they already claimed that she was a temptress that wrecked the country, she shall overturn the world into complete chaos starting with her beguiling sister, her malicious stepmother, her cruel lover and her heartless family. Let her end the lives that Yama refused to end.

She was a pawn in her past life. In this life, however, the world was her chess board. With an alluring smile and a charming figure that enchanted the entire nation, the red-clothed woman wrecked chaos among the lands. She was a vengeful spirit from hell, determined to make those who wronged her pay in blood.

“I want those who owe me a life debt to hold their hearts out in front of me. I want those who looked down on me to only be able to admire me. I want Lord Zhong Zi to shiver when he sees me. I want to step on this splendid river and mountains!”

— — —

“You are a temptress and I am a thief.” His robe was as dark as the night and his gaze was as cold as the Northern Star. “A perfect match.”

Her red dress was akin to fire, but her heart was the coldest ice in the winter.

He was stoic in his black robe, yet he was willing to warm her frozen heart.

In this life, the elegant man seemed like a snowy bamboo grove with tall, chilly mountains, walking step by step towards her like an unstoppable force.

“Ruan Ruan, if you hate the world, then I shall conquer the lands with you.”

“What if I love the world?” She asked.

“I am the world, so you can only love me,” he answered.

- Description from Novelupdates

Wang Ling is a cultivation genius. Since a year old, he managed to achieve a new cultivation realm in every a couple of years. With the power beyond his own control, he became nearly invincible being.

Wang Ling is sixteen years old now and he has to face one of the gratest battle he never faced before, Senior High School. There are so many challenges popping up. Therefore, Wang Ling’s plans for a low-key school life become further away every time.

Wang Ling: “I just want to eat my crispy noodle snacks in peace..”

Father Wang: If you’re careless enough to destroy the country, it’s coming out of your pocket money.

Wang Ling: It’s not my fault that the backlash from punching me kills you.

Wang Ling’s appearance is mostly a mystery because he can change his face on a whim based on the current trend to be average. He does have slightly handsome facial features, average build and a crew cut with his dead fish eyes.

Wang Ling is a non-talkative individual who‘s obsessed with being average and not standing out. He tries to avoid troublesome matters yet he still manages to get involved and has also secretly saved the world on numerous accounts. He also lives for and loves his crispy noodles.

Heavenly Eye (King’s Eye)

(Known) Three Thousand Great Spells (not sorted list)

She met Wang Ling on the meet-and-greet for new students at No. 60 High School.

She was elegant, with long hair and fair skin, and wore a tight-fitting white T-shirt, jeans and casual shoes.

Mother of Wang Ling

- Description from Novelupdates

A boy that was imprisoned for millions of years has regained a mortal body.

He became a disciple of the declining Cleansing Incense Ancient Sect where its patriarch used to be his disciple. Now he will bring this sect back to its former glory.

This is his journey to reach the apex and take revenge on those who had imprisoned him.

This is his story of meeting old friends and making new companions.

This is his path of traversing the Nine Worlds and becoming the next ruler of the Heavens.

Several milennias have passed and the golden age of experts have passed. A master whose disciples once were the most exalted Immortals among the 9 worlds have all left him. With his mortal body, mortal physique and mortal life wheel. . . he shall sweep the 9 worlds and take what is rightfully his.

“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.