MTL - Is There Something Wrong with You, Lord? - Chapter 721 Changes caused by the protagonist's halo

Iris Morris is by no means looking for any more drama in her life ( she has loads of it thanks to her mom). However, when Lucas Andrews pops up and ruins her interview, the drama she has been running away from unfolds in all the “wrong” ways, like him suddenly filling her small circle of influence. . .and her mind!For Lucas Andrews, nothing is as important to him as getting the Adder magazine to be number one on the bestsellers list worldwide. So when Iris comes to support the promise he made to his mother out of her sheer love for editing, he can't help but fall for hard for her, especially when a fake dating deal to ward off his possessive “fan girl” comes into play.

The journey to the martial peak is a lonely, solitary and long one. In the face of adversity, you must survive and remain unyielding. Only then can you break through and continue on your journey to become the strongest. Sky Tower tests its disciples in the harshest ways to prepare them for this journey. One day the lowly sweeper Kai Yang managed to obtain a black book, setting him on the road to the peak of the martials world.

Li Ke Lin (also Li Colin), a Chinese office worker, woke up to find himself suddenly no longer Li Ke Lin but instead Colin Lee, son of multi-billionaire in America. Having taken over the body of Colin Lee and carefully imitated his manners and bearings, his next goal is to inherit his father’s wealth. However, when his father lists the condition of marrying a woman who feels repulsed by Colin Lee’s (not Li Colin’s) dalliances, and whose very nature is the complete opposite of Colin Lee (not Li Colin), what must he do to gain her affection?!

“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.