MTL - You Look Like You’re Made of Money - Chapter 71

Enzo ventured into the primitive era, chosen as a priest by the Crimson Star tribe and emerging as the leader, awakening numerous extraordinary abilities in the process.In order to enhance their way of life, extensive reforms became necessary.Mystical sorcery and modern technology advanced hand in hand.While other tribes still dwelled in caves, the Crimson Star tribe had already gained prominence, constructing sturdy brick houses.While other tribes were still using primitive wooden spears and stones, the Crimson Star tribe had forged ahead with iron tools.In the midst of other tribes worrying about food scarcity, the Crimson Star tribe was reaping bountiful harvests of various grains.Furthermore, they possessed an unparalleled army of totem warriors.In response, Enzo, embraced by the luscious temptress and leading the enigmatic cat maiden, earnestly expressed, “I truly only sought to improve our way of life. How did I inadvertently elevate the tribe into a divine realm?”

Wen Ran was a winner in life. She had a good background, was beautiful, and had a young fairy as her fiancé. After living in this world for many years, she remembered that she was wearing a book.

She is the male protagonist’s fiancee and the male protagonist’s Bai Yueguang. Even when she and another person were caught by the devil in Juyuan Valley, they faced a life-and-death crisis. The male protagonist was forced to choose one of the two, and Wen Ran became the one who survived. man, while the other fell into the abyss.

The wind on the top of the cliff was strong that day, which reminded Wen Ran a lot.

After that person “dies”, the male protagonist will know that the person who saved him in the past is not Wen Ran, and he will also realize that the person he loves is not Wen Ran. The one he gave up with his own hands.

The male protagonist is suffering and blackened, and he is about to start the script of chasing his wife crematorium.

Wen Ran, who knew she was a female supporting role, felt that she was finished!

However, on the Juyuan Valley, Wen Ran saw with his own eyes the usual self-restraining and returning to the ritual, when the indifferent young Xianjun faced the situation of choosing one of two, he directly raised his foot and kicked the man down the abyss .

Afterwards, he looked at her with a smile, “You don’t remember what I just did, do you?”

Wen Ran: “…”

what happened?

How did the character of the male protagonist collapse!

A long, long time later.

While poking her in the face, he asked her curiously, “Does the meaning of chasing the wife’s crematorium mean that you will be thrown into the fire first, and then I will chase you in the fire?”

Facing his eager eyes, Wen Ran fell into a long silence.

- Description from novelbuddy

(MATURE CONTENT)Threesome arc? - Right hereA weak, adorable, and low self-esteemed MC with an awful past, a trauma breaking him down every second and controling his life, just before he meets his 'suns', and later gains confidence and starts loving himself again arc? - Right here. Yeah, you read that right.Twin brothers who radiate like the sun and are very possessive of the MC, putting his happiness above everything arc? Gosh, look no further, you're in the right place.This story is just for you, so open it and read to your heart's content.******SynopsisI was just a no-name photographer who was trying hard to make a living, but then I got tangled with 'them'.My life, as it was, had always been nothing but a nightmare, living a cursed life that wasn't fit to be called a life.I had no chances with love, connections, or anything. Nothing! And after drawing my last straw, trying to make a final effort that would maybe lead me somewhere other than dirt, I met them again.They - the twins - were my childhood friends whose lives I had ruined with my presence, and I was scared to ruin it a second time, so I tried to stay away from them but... They had other plans.'When angels dream.'That was what I called the picture. The beautiful portrait was filled with serenity as that blond Italian man gazed into the distance and was showered with the soft petals of cherry blossom.The beautiful picture I had 'stolen'. Yeah, that's the word. I stole it because I didn't ask for permission first.But this is how it unfolded.At first, I took the picture without asking because I was so mesmerized by the scenery, and completely breathtaking, but then I got caught but it wasn't by the same man.They looked alike and wore the same clothes but I could tell right away that he wasn't him.Nevertheless, I apologized.“I'm deeply sorry.” I said but then, the man whom I had stolen a picture from walked up behind me and said,“To think such a day would come.” I turned around and blinked, looking at the man in front of me and then at the one behind me.They were identical twins. And not only that ... My heart shook... They looked like the twins I had known back then.“What's the matter?” The one in front asked with a bright smile that I was so compelled to take a picture of him and I did.He blinked at my confused expression and then burst out laughing.A sweet and cheerful laugh that made me blush. he looked really handsome. They both did, with their blonde hair which shone like gold with the suns radiation and a charming smile.I found my heart racing at the mere sight of that smile and almost forgot the situation I was in.“I see you haven't changed at all.” He suddenly said, swiped my hair back and added, softly, “Hyung.”My eyes widened. These two... It couldn't be... They weren't the twins, right? The twins that I knew. They... How did this happen? I just wanted a picture, that's all.

“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.