Cultivation Starting from Full Talent - Chapter 21 - 20: The Wang Family’s Enticement (Please Collect!)

He was straight.Even after dying and waking up as the protagonist in his sister’s BL web novel.He was straight.Even with all the male leads practically throwing themselves at his feet.He was straight.Even when his heart inexplicably skipped a beat during romantic moments with one of them.He was straight.Even now... when he could somehow get pregnant.He was straight.There was no denying it.HE. WAS. STRAIGHT!“So, can someone please help me get out of this goddamn novel already?!”[Warning: 18+ content and there will be some themes of non-consent, mentions of abuse and suicide.]

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Never should be exposed, just the two of them in their youth.「I’ll be making your meals from now on, Sensei.」I, Reiyu Tenjō, am a high school teacher.When I shared some food with my neighbor, it turned out to be my student, Yuunagi Nishiki. If this fact is discovered, I might be fired from the school?That’s why we signed a 『Neighbor Agreement』 in order to keep our secret.Since we both live alone, the plan was to help each other out when one of us was in trouble——but somehow, I got won over by his cooking.Instead of helping him, I find myself increasingly spoiled and dependent that I can’t live without him anymore.‘No, Reiyu Tenjō. He’s your student, someone you are not supposed to fall in love with!’Drawing closer and then apart——their love sways ambiguously like waves.A youth romantic comedy filled with secrets between a teacher and student begins here.

“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.