Major League System - Chapter 998: World Series - Begin (2)

This is probably the story of a modern man who became the Seventh son of Kangxi in the Qing Dynasty. This is probably the story of how the Seventh brother Yinyou worked hard and fell in love by the way. So there is no doubt that this article is ambiguous, and it is easy to guess who the couple is.

- Description from Novelupdates

She is the legendary queen of mercenaries whose name daunts even the big shots in society. With an ancient jade pendant in her hand, she is great at almost everything, be it seeking the truth or the art of healing.

The World Tower had unimaginable wealth and treasures inside it. As long as one made it to the higher levels, they would rise above the common folk and enjoy a glorious life.

The tower had 1000 levels. Some said that one could obtain all the wealth in the world if they reached Level 1000. Others claimed that beyond Level 1000 was a beautiful new world or even heaven. Some people said that one could obtain the abilities of a god. Others claimed that any wish of theirs could be granted.

The current most powerful team in the world made it to Level 929, where no one else had ever made it to before. They still ended up being wiped out tragically. The members of the team placed the unique treasure they obtained on the body of their captain, Wang Wen.

Wang Wen managed to survive.

However, he was sent back 20 years ago.

With his previous life’s emotions and experiences in a new life, Wang Wen stood before the World Tower, calm and determined.

“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.