MTL - Banished to Another World - Chapter 604

In her last life, Jiang Changning discovered that she was a fake daughter when the real daughter she had never met came to meet the family. Because of Jiang Luojin’s schemes, everyone’s treatment towards her in Hou’s mansion turned bad.

Mother Jiang: You are the one who caused my A Luo to suffer so much!

Brother: A Luo is your younger sister, what’s wrong with leaving the marriage to her? You owe her all this!

Fiance: The only one I love in my heart is A Luo, and it’s all because of your wishful thinking, Jiang Changning, you will never be a humble person!

The betrayed Jiang Changning died on the day Jiang Luo got married.

Once she woke up, she found that she was back in time when Jiang Luo came to

introduce herself. And she suddenly can hear the conversation between Jiang Luo and the “system”.

The other party has been robbing her luck through this system!

The only thing that can counterattack this is the Banquet King who saved her in her previous life!

So…

Banquet King: What are you doing? Stop hugging my thigh!!!

Jiang Changning: It’s just… very comfortable!

- Description from Novelupdates

When shy teen musician Kael uploads a rough demo, he never expects it to grab the attention of a rising studio. Thrown into the underground music scene, Kael must confront doubt, pressure, and his past as he fights to find his voice—on the mic and in life.Story was written 1 year ago

“Some 18+ chapters will be uploaded soon, but I need some 'power stones'to keep going! Please support me”.*Exclusive Content Alert!**Get early access to my fanfic, on“I'm excited to update my chapters on Patreon! If you'd like to enjoy this fanfic, consider joining me there. I'll be posting 10 chapters per week on Patreon and 3-4 chapters on Webnovel. Your support would mean a lot to me!”

“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.