No Way People Find Cultivation Difficult, Right? - Chapter 283 - Xia Qian Strikes, Secrets of the Longevity Mountain! 

When a normal human suddenly dies and enters another world with the almighty cheat, their very own system, what do you think would happen?

They will rise above every other being and soar the skies, for they will become an unstoppable force that brushes through the entire world, causing waves... Or so it normally goes, right?

After Victor dies, he did get transmigrated, but it wasn't as a rich young master or some character with unfathomable potential. NO. He woke up as a random dungeon mob in another world...

Read to follow Victor's journey through his new life as a mob.

After rebirth, Long Xiaoyuan went into raptures because he was in poor health in his previous life. However, he suddenly found that his soul was in the body of a fatuous and self-indulgent emperor.

Zhi Yao is a little fox, soft fur, sweet face, loves to act coquettishly. Everyone in A Country knows that the heart meat of Pei Chi Yao is this little fox.

But no one knows that this little fox is actually a fox spirit that can transform into a human.

Pei Chi Yao: “After raising you for so long, have you thought about how to repay me?”

Zhi Yao: “I’ve given you kisses, hugs, pets, what more do you want?”

The man leaned over, smiling wickedly, “Of course it’s to… give me some little fox cubs.”

【Bright avoidance of sensitive content】 This is not a story where the female lead is OP. The female lead is soft, easy to push down. Those who like strong female leads please do not enter. If you feel the female lead is too saintly in parts, please exit immediately! Don’t make yourself unhappy! Thanks for understanding!

“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.