MTL - Kaleidoscope of Death - Chapter 107 Twelfth door

He was a school bully and she was a straight A student. One day, she received a message that he wanted to meet her after school. She was very scared of being bullied, so she sought help from her teacher, who was also his father. Therefore, his father came to meet him after school with a broom on hands and beat him up.“You little brat! How dare you bully the top student in our class! Just wait and see how I'll punish you!” said his father angrily.“No! Dad! This is a mistake! I just wanted to pursue her!”“You're clearly not good enough for her! Stay far away from her!”...Years later, in her wedding dress, she said to her best friend, “My husband used to be a school bully. He said that he was beaten up by his father on the first day he was planning to pursue me. Then, he was warned not to get in the way of my pursuit of Tsinghua University.”“Too bad! And what happened next?”“He also got into Tsinghua University.” She smiled.

From [Running], to the physics-defying [Godspeed].From [Aiming], to the causality-transcending [Bullseye].From [Health Cultivation], to the everlasting [Immortality] among men.From [Fitness], to the flesh-ascending [Turning into a Dragon].Having been reborn, Xue Jing, after gaining a panel that infinitely enhances skills, set a minor goal for himself.In this dangerous world filled with martial artists, Blessed Ones, and Transformed People, he aimed to rise above all merely with his mortal flesh and blood—to become the supreme deity among men.

Lewis Griffith loved magic ever since he was little, dreaming of the day when he would awaken and become a great 'Mage'.

However, this dream is shattered upon the discovery that he was inept, unable to form a mana core, and ever utilize magic.

Still, due to his outstanding dedication to the art, he studied magic and developed countless theories and schools. His unique concept revolutionized magic in the world, making him one of the most renowned scholars in history.

Surprisingly, he reincarnates after several centuries have passed since his death, once again thrust into the world of magic.

Will his second time be different? Or will he be the same Magic theorist he was in the past? The tale of Jared Leonard, formerly known as the Great Sage of Magic, is just beginning.

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“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.