MTL - There is Room For Abandoned Women In the 1980s - Chapter 1109 How come there is such a shameless woman?

Osho woke up in a world both similar but also vastly different from the Earth called the Azure Star. This world is populated by terrible beasts and vile monsters that at one point pushed humanity to the brink of extinction. However, humans discovered an ability the changed the course of the bleak future. The ability to Tame beasts.As such, Beast taming became the most common profession among humans, and powerful beast tamers have power, wealth, fame, and so on. It is Osho's goal to become the most powerful beast tamer alive, and his unique ability, one that allows him to evolve his beast's, makes that all the more possible.

#Expect a big Harem but MC won't mindless collect women on a whim. There's deep mature content. Beware!After getting rejected and humiliated by the very woman he's ever loved—and publicly dumped during lunch break in front of half the school while holding a giant teddy bear, blue roses, and a handwritten love letter titled “My Heart in .mp3”—Jayden Cross thought life couldn't get worse.Then he wakes up with a system talking in his ear.[Ding! Welcome to the Ultimate Copy and Paste System!][Function Unlocked: 10x Copy and Paste!]Now armed with a divine-level Ultimate System Jayden begins rebuilding his life with just copying and pasting everything and gets 10X more!What the world, the system, and the universe had shattered without remorse, only the Ultimate Copy and Paste System could restore. But it did not simply mend—it reimagined. It rewrote his broken existence into a force no storm could contain, only follow.

Ethan wakes up expecting to see the walls of a hospital room—only to find a system message blinking in front of him:[Ding! You have killed a green worm][Ding! Green worm has been added to your summoning list]

“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.