MTL - The End of The World’s Reborn Cannon Fodder Counter-attacks - Chapter 226 :restaurant? New arrival attendant.

I'll take care of it. The uncle of her husband on their wedding night whispered viciously in her ear. In front of a frightening Steel Blooded Business Demon, he was the one who was crazy for favoring his wife.

He had begged her to pave the way for her so that she could do whatever she wanted. If not, he would pamper her to the heavens. Just because he glanced at the clothes, he directly monopolized the entire shopping mall under her name. He said, As long as you want it, I want it!

He is the master of six kingdoms. As long as he wanted, his cavalry is ready to wipe off any country.

【Rebirth + Pseudo Taboo + Age Gap + Chasing Wife Crematorium】After a wild night with her nominal uncle, Gong Chen, Lin Zhiyi endured eight years of torment.When she committed suicide holding her daughter's ashes, Gong Chen was throwing a grand birthday party for his white moonlight's son.Upon opening her eyes again in a new life, she is determined to make Gong Chen pay the price!In the previous life, she solemnly explained, but Gong Chen accused her of drugging him with ulterior motives. In this life, she publicly distances herself from him!In the previous life, her creation was plagiarized by the white moonlight, and Gong Chen said she was consumed with jealousy. In this life, she steps on the white moonlight to stand on the award podium!In the previous life, she was falsely accused of targeting, and Gong Chen shielded the white moonlight. In this life, she fiercely slaps the white moonlight's face!Gong Chen always thought Lin Zhiyi would continue to love him deeply as before.But when Lin Zhiyi left without looking back, he was completely panicked.The high-and-mighty Gong Chen grabbed her with reddened eyes: “Zhiyi, don't abandon me, can you take me with you?”

“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.