MTL - Rebirth Daughter Against the World - Chapter 89 Welcome to Leng Da!

Ashley Gusman, a determined young Filipina, was driven by her sole ambition to provide a better life for her family. She was willing to go to great lengths to achieve this goal, even taking on the role of a surrogate mother for a Billionaire Heir.***~***CEO Tanaga Jones, who needed an heir for his empire, was adamant about not wanting a wife. Ultimately, he contracted with a woman to bear him a child.

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.

The Earth of the future is united under a single government, but not all things are well. The shape of the playing field may be changed, but the powerful still rule the weak.And those who do not conform with the rest of society are exiled to another world. A world that not even the technology of the future managed to tame.It should have been humanity's New World but ended up as nothing more than a penal colony. A place where the exiled are sent to die.Motivated by revenge, Magnus sets out on a quest to bring his own justice to his enemies. For that purpose, he is willing to go further than most others.But then he learns that if he truly wishes to change things, he can only find his answers beyond the gate.Having lived most of her life as an exile, Astra is a woman of few interests aside from survival and climbing the ranks of her clan.To achieve those goals, she certainly won't be squeamish when a chance literally falls into her lap, or will she?———————————————————————————————I am trying to go with a survival/“no modern tech” setting in this one. People from a technologically advanced society are thrown into a world where they can't maintain their tech. They are forced to rely on what the world provides where they have to make do with the limited resources they have and what little of their old technology is still working. Their gene manipulation allows them to have something akin to superpowers, but that doesn't help much against the monsters of their new world. Not sure yet whether sufficiently advanced technology will be discovered later on to count as magic.It turns more political between the various clans later on.

“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.