MTL - Don’t Pick Up Boyfriends From the Trash Bin - Chapter 254 Perfect New World (eighteen)

One day, as usual, Annabelle remembered the memories of her previous life.

It was revealed that she has been reincarnated as the second most popular character in a novel.

She also did all kinds of bad things to the male lead, and in the end, she is the person who will end up in prison!

‘In the end, I’ll get caught. It’s crazy!’

Anabelle begins to save Ian from danger by intercepting the conspiracies that were laid out one by one to prevent her impending doom.

But in the process, she caught the attention of some unexpected people…

“Oh my, that’s the spirit of chivalry our family pursues! I like that a lot!”

Ian’s mother’s eyes began to sparkle at her.

“Would you like to be my partner to the opera?”

After saving Ian, the prince keeps flirting…

“Ian, I’ve decided to quit being your rival and live a new life.”

“A new life?”

“To stop paying attention to a man like you who’s always up and down, marry a man with no character, and live a normal life.”

“Who’s the opponent? And why am I up and down?”

The male lead, Ian, keeps obsessing over me for some reason.

“Why do you not talk harshly to me these days…? Do it again.”

Everyone just seems to be a little weird!

In a parallel world, the online game, God’s Realm, suddenly became the reality.

Su Cheng was transmigrated to this world when the change had just happened and obtained the cheat-like talents.

Talent for infinite level ups: Unlimited Growth.

Talent for maxed armor: Unbreakable.

Talent for maxed magic defense: Magic Immunity.

Talent for tenacity: Status Immunity.

“Warning! Your health point has maxed out. You will not be able to obtain additional max health points.”

Su Cheng looked at the information on the status board and then at his health bar which had maxed out without any expression.

He had already reached the peak at that point.

An AI calling itself Schema has assimilated earth into its system. As a consequence, everyone gained access to status screens, power-ups, and skills. This AI turned these concepts from fiction to fact. It's easy to become intoxicated with leveling up and becoming stronger. To some, it's too good to be true like living out a dream.

For Daniel, however, it's closer to a nightmare.

He's in a bit of a predicament. Cracks in our dimensional fabric have unleashed terrifying beasts from dark, abyssal places. Schema organizes these cracks into dungeons, giving the native species of the planet a chance to fight back. Daniel finds himself trapped in one of these dungeons. Not long after, he discovers there's only one way out.

“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.