MTL - First Evolution - v15 Chapter 70 The gradually restored truth

This is a reincarnation/isekai story, about Matt (later TreeTree), an overpowered tree in a fantasy world that serves as the battlefield for an ongoing conflict between demons and the heroes summoned to oppose them.At first a bystander, over a long period of time, TreeTree will learn all sorts of skills, gain levels, and in doing so, build up a forest, train young subordinates, protect a village, and more.

Kai was a 17-year-old dropout. A NEET. A background character in real life with nothing to his name but bitterness, novels, and guilt. After his parents died, he gave up on the world. People were fake. Dreams were pointless. And that one novel he kept reading? He hated it especially the main character, June. Perfect, noble, always standing tall. Everything Kai wasn’t.Then, one night, a voice asked: “What if you did meet June?”He said yes, half-asleep and half-mocking.Now he’s trapped in the novel. Isikeid. But he’s not June. He’s not a hero. He’s not even in the main cast.He’s an extra in the background of a world he knows too well and he’s had enough of watching things play out the same way. This time, he’s going to change everything. Whether the world likes it or not.

After suffering from a heat stroke while working under the scorching heat of summer, Lu Zhou, a hardworking but poor university student, somehow becomes the owner of an advanced technological system. With the cheat given by the system, his university life changes overnight.

A Master’s degree? Easy.

PhD? Not a problem.

From a nobody, he quickly becomes a huge celebrity in the world of science. With the missions given by the system, he is on his way to winning a Nobel Prize.

“System, can points be exchanged for money?”

“No.”

“F**k, what use are you then!?”

“This system will make you the ultimate scholar, the kind that lords over all of humanity. What use will money be to you?”

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.