MTL - 100 Ways to Get the Male God - Chapter 70 Online games are very pure (46)

In the Toaru Kagaku no Choudenjihou (Railgun) SS series:

Set in Liberal Arts City between September 3rd to 10th, Academy City is having an exchange program with the rest of the world that allows some students to travel for this week to other places, and some students are allowed into Academy City during this time.

V.2 – Shopping Mall Demonstration

Setin Russia where Misaka Mikoto takes part in a demonstration things don’t pan as scheduled as Mikoto meets the mysterious New Light.

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The story was released in parts on limited edition DVDs and Blu-rays of the Toaru Majutsu no Index anime. The story consists of eight parts, and can easily equate to a regular Index novel in length.

Gojo Satoru always knew he could travel back in time whenever his life was in danger. After surviving betrayal, the battle at the Prison Realm, and his fight with Sukuna, he realized he needed a fresh start. When he opened his eyes, he was sixteen again—his first day at Jujutsu High. Nothing had happened yet. This was his chance to change everything.But something was wrong. Geto Suguru was missing.Gojo searched all of Tokyo but found no trace of him. Then, a year later, during a mission near Shinjuku Station, he spotted a familiar face—a boy with a bun and strange bangs.Gojo’s heart raced.Geto Suguru: “Who are you?”

Chu Sihan, the county magistrate of Xuan Yue Country, is an exceptionally handsome prodigy who had risen to fame since he was a child. However, the National Preceptor prophesies that he would not live to the age of thirty, unless he marries the Lu Family’s daughter from Liu Yue Village.

“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.