MTL - Quick Transmigration: The Boss’ White Moonlight is Resurrected - Chapter 141 (two)

If you could return to the day you met, what would the two of you do?

“Ah! Fate is unfathomable like that. Never would anyone be able to guess that such an ordinary encounter could lead to such an extraordinary future. Although our encounter that day contributed to a resplendent future, I sometimes find myself reminiscing about ordinary days. If time could be rewound, would I choose to step foot into that tavern where we met… Ah, no! Even if that tavern had not existed, we would definitely have met anyway, because our encounter was indispensable fate!”

– Bard

“With my blade, I’ll cut the tavern, destiny, and this bastard in half all at the same time.”

– Red Cloak

Female Warrior details the 1st generation of the Twelve Holy Knights from .

Chen Mo transmigrates into the Battle Through the Heavens world and binds with the Goddess Favorability System.For every point of favorability he gains from a goddess, he receives a corresponding reward from the system.【Ding! Bound to the goddess—Die Ba!】【Ding! Favorability +1. Received a Tier 1 Pill: Accumulation Pill. Hand-holding bonus triggered—gained one incense stick’s worth of enlightenment time.】Looking at the woman before him, Chen Mo exclaimed in shock, “Isn't this Queen Medusa's younger sister?”

Xiao Chen, “the waste” of Xiao clan, had his engagement to the Young Lady of the Yang clan renounced.

And when he arrived at the sect that sympathized with him and took him in, he found corpses strewn all over the place and a mist of blood in the air. The sect was exterminated by a mysterious group that was looking for the ‘Wind Spirit Jade’.

He himself was left behind only half-dead for ‘wastes do not deserve to die by their hand’. Humiliated once more and on the verge of death, in the surroundings strangeness happened. A whirlpool sucked up the blood mist and diverted it into Xiao Chen’s forehead, transforming and enhancing his body.

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.