MTL - A Day In a Japanese Fishing Village - Chapter 701 I was arrogant

Lan Xuan smiled gently as she said, “My dear sister, who told you to obstruct my path? Your man belongs to me, your dowry belongs to me, your everything, belongs to me.”

“President Li, it’s not good, someone smashed into your office.” Li Zhenting’s rosy lips approached Shen Ning’s red lips a little bit, and suddenly, the secretary rushed over in a hurry.

“Bastard, who dares to be so bold?”

“Li, Mr. Li, a four or five-year-old little milk bag, said that you bullied his mother.”

“Uh…” Li Zhenting immediately stood up straight with a serious face.

“Li, President Li, it’s not good, your project information has been stolen.” Li Zhenting was holding a senior management meeting nervously, when the secretary ran over in a panic.

“Presumptuous, who dares to be so bold?” Li Zhenting was furious.

“Li, Mr. Li, three little milk bags, they said, you are sorry for his mommy.”

A group of executives secretly laughed.

Li Zhenting shrank his neck and cleared his voice: “Cough, cough, continue the meeting…”

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- Description from novelbuddy

Seven days remained until the countdown to genetic mutation.Seven days later, all creatures on Earth would undergo mutations. Giant mutated creatures would swarm and attack humanity, putting their fate in jeopardy. The entire Earth would be ruled by these mutated beings!Yang Xiao accidentally walked into a genetic store where various gene potions were sold, capable of altering human body functions.From that moment on, he embarked on a crazy journey of genetic evolution.

“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.