MTL - Apocalypse Rebirth: Commander, Don’t Move! - Chapter 1375 I do not like

Miss Witch's 'warm' daily life in the Cyber Interstellar Era, occasionally epic and impassioned.————She was a timid girl who grew up in the cyber metropolis.She was a crying child trudging through the mud.She was a Legendary star admired by the vulgar masses for her transcendence.She was a dark songstress who brought sorrow and tears to the world.She was a cold-hearted Witch who could not speak of false hope.She was a bloodstained Angel singing the finale...

Kellen Woods grew up never knowing a normal world. By the time he could walk, his mother and father had already sealed several serious gates that threatened the safety of his hometown. By the time his sister was born, they were famous worldwide.So the world held their breath for when Kellen and his sister came of age, waiting to see what kind of power they would awaken.His sister was just like his mom, same power, same class, while Kellen, woke up one day to find out what it meant to be special in a family the world watched. But in the worst way.Awakening weaker then your powerful parents wasn’t unheard of, but when your younger sister awakened at the same class as your parent, anyone would feel inferior. And Kellen, never one to ask for hand outs, left the comfort and safety of his hometown to become better than the weak brat everyone thought he was.Kellen went to the front lines, to where the gates normally broke out. From there, Kellen worked hard, and then worked some more until no one could doubt that he was good at his job. He got so good that even with his lower class, people would still hire him to help. But Kellen never took it to heart. He had learned a valuable lesson on the front lines. Classification only meant shit if you walked back out of the gate. Otherwise, shut your mouth and listen to those with more experience. They determined who made it out alive or not.But Kellen was tired now. He had gotten everything out of his system, and the fast paced life on the front lines didn’t suit him anymore. Now, he wanted to go home, buy a house, maybe find a nice man to settle down with, and live a normal life.All the while, the yellow eyes he’d met on the front lines haunted him, no matter how much he tried to forget about them.Especially since the Esper they were attached to refused to let him go.

Xiao Xin, a Pokémon’s diehard powder, accidentally succumbed to death while using the game modifier, the soul passed through the Pokémon world, a child who accidentally swallowed a lightning stone in thunderstorms and was strangled by lightning.

On the body, the most important and most important, he also brought his props backpack in the game…

- Description from Qidian

“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.