MTL - After Crossing, My Husband and I Were Reborn Together - Chapter 1436 mission

Yang Ye’s entire family relied on him to keep them safe, but just when everything seemed to be going well, misfortune struck in droves!

In 1930s Canada, a 16-year-old landlord unlocks a System unlike anything this world has seen—a power that lets him grant supernatural abilities drawn from warriors of another realm. Barbarians, Archers, Wizards… all under his command.

“It was an era taken over by a single online game, the “”Second World.””

The “”Second World”” offered a vast amount of classes and skills...

Micheal, our protagonist, reincarnated back into this era and realized he had a few bugged passive skills that would put him as one of the best.

[Passive skill: Damage Reduction: When you receive damage from an enemy, the damage will be reduced accordingly to the reduction percentage. Skill lasts for 10 seconds and takes 10 seconds to cooldown.]

[Passive skill: Damage Reflect: When you receive damage, the damage will be reflected accordingly to the reflection percentage.]

[Passive skill: Damage Multiplier: When you deal damage to an enemy, the damage you dealt will be multiplied.]

[Passive skill: Sword Attack Nullifier: When you attack an enemy with a sword, the enemy will kneel in front of you and catch your blade with their bare hands.]

[Passive skill: Priest: When you suffer from damage, automatically heals yourself.]

[Passive skill…]

[Passive skill…]

.........

After reading through all his passive skills, he suddenly realized how invincible he as.

Even though he didn’t possessed a single active skill, he could still triumph over everyone else with his passive skills.

One day, when the “”Second World”” mysteriously merged with the real world, monsters and divine beings began to invade Earth…

That was when Micheal realized that his passive skills have also given him the power to kill these divine beings…”

“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.