Master Xiao, Your Wife Has Reborn - Chapter 671 - Why Do Women Make Things

R18 ( No One 17 and Under Admitted )On one night, a boy named Ezra is abandoned on road by his father. Aeri, a kind-hearted college student, takes him in and raises him as her own. As years pass, Ezra grows more manly with time and is now deeply in love with the woman he calls “Mom.”To support Aeri, Ezra takes a job at the most famous brothel in town—a vibrant and lively establishment where beauty, desire, and drama intertwine. Working as a host and a male escort, he finds himself entangled in heated encounters, passionate affairs, and thrilling action as he navigates the challenges of the trade without letting Aeri ever knowing about his secret work.Ezra’s journey is filled with unexpected twists, romance, and adventure.

I killed the protagonist.Yeah. He was a real son of a bitch.Noah didn’t just stumble into this mess. He walked straight in—grinning, sword in hand.One day, he wakes up inside his favorite game… as a throwaway side character no one remembers. A complete nobody. But when he figures out who the so-called “main character” is?Some smug, self-righteous psycho.So yeah—he killed him. No regrets.Story over, right?Not exactly.Because this world? It’s got one more player.“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!?”Now the story’s off the rails, the world’s gone completely off-script, and Noah’s got a new goal:Steal the hero’s spot. Rewrite the plot. Find out who the hell this other player is. And maybe—just maybe—make this damn story fun for once.

Kōdo Ikusei Senior High School, a leading prestigious school with state-of-the-art facilities where nearly 100% of students go on to university or find employment. The students there have the freedom to wear any hairstyle and bring any personal effects they desire. Kōdo Ikusei is a paradise-like school, but the truth is that only the most superior of students receive favorable treatment.

The protagonist Kiyotaka Ayanokōji is a student of D-class, which is where the school dumps its “inferior” students in order to ridicule them. For a certain reason, Kiyotaka was careless on his entrance examination, and was put in D-class. After meeting Suzune Horikita and Kikyō Kushida, two other students in his class, Kiyotaka’s situation begins to change.

“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.