MTL - Twenty Seven Years - Chapter 456 Progressing well

Arriving in a new world where the steam industry was booming, he inherited a three-story apartment on the capital’s royal square, took in someone else’s cat, and listened to the whispers at his ear, ready to witness this mysterious and bizarre era. The epic of the Sixth Era was about to commence, and behind the curtain, The Chosen One was destined to step into legend. Old Gods, Relics, steam, witches, detectives, ancient secrets, the Era’s brilliance... “Would you like to play a round of Roder Cards?” Time engraved the hours, as Silvermoon illuminated the shadows. I compose your legend, you whisper your verses to me.

Jiang Xi, the warden of a mental asylum, transmigrated one day and became a girl from a farming village who had three engagements annulled and hanged herself three times.

Jiang Xi: That’s ridiculous!Jiang Xi was a psychic who could make predictions come true just by talking.

If she claimed that someone’s house would collapse, it would collapse the next day, even if it was structurally sound. In her previous life, her predictions were a little too real for her family.

They were spooked by her abilities and left her at that asylum.

She was unconcerned and adapted to life there like a duck to water. Though she managed to get promoted to warden after much difficulty, she suddenly transmigrated, and everything was suddenly the way it was before.

She studied her leaking house and sighed to herself.

Whatever. She would live life one day at a time, then.

When her mother clumsily ruined the family’s crops, Jiang Xi assured her: They would be fine tomorrow.Her mother wiped her tears and woke up the following day to check on the crops…

only to find that the ruined sprouts were budding! During the dry season, Jiang Xi’s father stared dolefully at the crops that looked like they were going to wither and die.

Jiang Xi simply pursed her lips and said: There will be a downpour soon.Jiang Xi’s father doubted her words.

But three days later, a downpour came, and he looked just like a happy child.Everyone in the village began to call Jiang Xi a lucky star, and the village head was willing to yield his position to her so that she would lead the village to riches. Bachelors proposed to her and came to her house with generous gifts even though they used to scorn her, but a tanned, muscular man with rough facial features stood in their way before they could reach the Jiangs’ house.

Zhao Xiping pointed at Jiang Xi and declared loudly: My wife! Mine!

Sabrina Jewel found out she was pregnant after so many pregnancy tests. The same day, her husband, the powerful President of Jewels Group of Companies in NY city, Robin Jewel, brought another woman home after Sabrina had endured his escapades with ceaseless women and tried to be a good wife.“What? After all the sperm, you could not for once be pregnant. Not even a miscarriage. She did your job for you,” Robin pinned the blame on Sabrina.Sabrina’s world crumbled right before her eyes. She left her family for this idiot but not anymore. His father knew who she was but Robin never took the pain to even research about her throughout their three years of marriage. Since he got another woman pregnant, she was done for good.“I have had enough, Robin. It’s either she leaves or I leave….”

“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.