MTL - Strongly Pampered Male Wife - Chapter 33

“Can’t I properly read stallion novels anymore!”

Shen Yuan transmigrated into someone who’d tormented the young male lead almost to death, the scum villain Shen Qingqiu.

It must be known, the original Shen Qingqiu ended up being carved alive by his disciple, Luo Binghe, into a human stick, a human stick!

Ten thousand “fuck your moms” rampaged through Shen Qingqiu’s heart:

“It’s not that I don’t want to cling to the male lead’s thighs, but who made him so fucking black. The type who seeks thousand-fold retribution!”

Why have all the female lead’s scenes been forcibly given to him.

Why, as a scum villain, does he need to constantly sacrifice himself, blocking knife and gun for the protagonist!

Shen Qingqiu: “…I think I can still save him, one more time.”

A gong who starts as a loyal dog of a small white flower, and ends up as a blackened, mental case of a maiden X a refined scum villain of a tsukkomi-holic shou

This is actually a dogblood story about a master-disciple pair never doing honest work, fighting monsters, and engaging in romance.

It’s also a story where the villain personally witnesses how the male lead transforms from a little sheep of a white lotus into a dark tyrant O(∩_∩)O~

- Description from novelupdates

An orphan dies while saving a bus full of children. For saving countless lives, the Universe grants him the opportunity to transmigrate to another reality.

There he realizes his dreams of supporting his new family and opening a company that will shake the foundations of this new world. He will be known as the MasterChef of the gods, a superstar singer, the best Mangaka to exist, the best Director, the businessman of the millennium and many other adjectives.

For the sake of his family, Ren embarked on the popular VRMMORPG, COVENANT, that used real-time in-game currency. But being a mediocre player who only knows how to gather information, he was put in a supporting role.

As the game explodes in popularity and every multibillion-dollar company invested in the game, things have turned for the worse for Ren. Due to the amount of information he gathered, the cheats, secrets, quests, and bugs he discovered, he was silent in fear of selling the information to the other guilds.

But given a second chance, he went back in time when his father was still alive and COVENANT was just in its starting phase.

This time . . . he wouldn’t be that guy on the side who gathered information from day in and day out for ten years.

Equipped with the games knowledge he accumulated, he will become . . . an Alchemist!

Chrono Mage? Djin Master? Summoner? Necromancer?
Chaos Lord?

What good are those?

Sure they’re powerful and rare classes and sought after by guilds, but it’s the alchemist who forged artifacts and concocts rare items and potions that gets the most coins at the end of the day!

It was better than being a blacksmith or a crafter! Plus, he could use all sorts of magic without limit to race and class!

It was the ultimate class! And no one even knows it!

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”