MTL - The Paranoid Brother Relies On My Love to Live - Chapter 19 makeover

She, the “godly doctor” of an assassin organization in 21st century, transmigrated into the body of Yun Family’s abandoned, good-for-nothing Ninth Miss. Good-for-nothing? Then she’ll let the world see what a real good-for-nothing looks like. Summoners are legendary? Nothing is impossible in this world! She’ll become the first Magical Summoner.

He, the third prince in Long Xu Kingdom and the mysterious, behind-the-scenes owner of Zhou Dynasty’s monopolized business, seemingly handsome and uninhibited, is actually brutal and merciless.

The world knows her as a sickly good-for-nothing and her standing is as low as a servant’s, yet she solely dominates his heart. Trickery, schemes, overbearing, seducing… an exhaustion of methods, all to capture her heart. The scheming couple supports each other, producing stories about enmity, love and win-win cooperation.

Read to see how they stand side-by-side at the peak of this extraordinary world.

- Description from Novelupdates

# 1V1 # MUTUALAFFECTION # BIZARRE

Nan Ge had been thinking about trading her Lamborghini for another car, but she seemed unable to pool more than a few grand together.

Nonetheless, as she cajoled and sweet-talked, her brother found her a great job that was brimming with a sense of responsibility: Galactic Guardians of the Stomach, otherwise known as food delivery service.

But on the first day of the job, as she drove on with much grit and resolve against the snow, she arrived at the luxury district, making a delivery to Shen Yanqing.

***

Shen Yanqing was a legendary magnate in Huai City, but he tended to keep a low profile.

Partners often described him as a cool deity with a kind appearance — affable on the outside, but utterly ruthless in reality.

Nonetheless, he met a girl he thought well of at their first meeting.

He thought there was no chance for them to meet again, but one day, he opened his door to find her familiar figure standing outside.

“Good evening, Mr. Shen! I am a delivery person from Irelyn’s Diner. Have a pleasant meal!”

Shen Yanqing presumed her to be a poor student working part-time to pay for her tuition fees, which was why he kept giving her business...

Until one day, he needed to leave the house but his car broke down.

After she found out that he had something important to do, she exclaimed, “I have a car!”

Shen Yanqing was wondering how he was going to turn down a ride on her electric scooter, only to see her whip out her car keys and press a button.

Nearby, the lights of a Lamborghini worth five hundred grand flashed. “Why are you spacing out? Get in!” “...”

Ye Qingge, a 22nd century dual-material firearms master, wears it!

Encountered a vicious aunt?

Ye Qingge unhurriedly took out a gun, and after shooting…

My aunt is crying!

Encountered a group of vicious bandits?

Ye Qingge unhurriedly took out a machine gun, and after firing…

Bandits cry!

Encounter an enemy army with wolf ambitions?

Ye Qingge unhurriedly resisted a shoulder-fired rocket, after launching…

Army cry!

Couldn’t help but look up and ask the sky, is there no one who can restrain her?

The emperor of a certain country who looks at the common people like nothing: let me try

A certain uncle who looks like a banished fairy on the outside and has a black belly on the inside: I will try it too

Ye Qingge: Do you choose a pistol, a machine gun, or a rocket?

A certain emperor: …

A certain uncle: …

&

I heard that Xiao Guo’s “ghost-faced” general who uses soldiers like a god and has first-class marksmanship is actually a woman?

Prince Zhou Guo on the battlefield: “Woman? No more fights, no more fights, I want to get married!”

A romantic emperor from the southern kingdom: “I happen to be short of a fierce queen, so that I can suppress the harem.”

A certain prince with white veils in the Xiao Kingdom: Sorry for being late.

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.