MTL - I [Imperial] Am Not This Kind of Man - Chapter 88 Leader

What if you spend your whole life like a vegetable in a hospital bed? Only being able to speak and listen. Just that. Would you go crazy? Unbalanced? What if it was all the fault of a degenerate madman looking for his parents' inheritance? Would you be angry? Would you be mentally broken?That was Kayden's life for 20 years and as quickly as it started, it ended, but luckily for him, reincarnation existed and by some miracle, he still had his memories of it. And....his new world had...magic.In the first moment of consciousness, Kayden made a promise to himself, in this life, he would achieve everything, he would reach the height of power, he wouldn't give a damn about women or money, futile things that would condemn him to mediocrity, his focus was to have the power to rule his destiny, this time he would not be a slave to his own life, he would be a monarch.

While the blue light blossoms, the insignificant struggle at the bottom. He grasps the opportunity to change his fate and embarks on an unprecedented path…

From the poor little girl who ate hundreds of meals in the small mountain village to the wealthy lady, the five-year-old Nuan Nuan lived a life of being favored by the whole family.

The elder brother is cold and reticent, he is the heir of the Gu family

The second brother is a genius with a gentle personality and high IQ, and the youngest professor in the research institute.

Third brother is a top star with fans all over the world.

The fourth brother is a cold and talented doctor who can save his life in the hands of the king of hell

Wu Ge is a talented painter, and a painting is worth millions.

Brother Six is ​​a wild school bully

Seventh brother has a black belly and a bear child, he is the king of children.

And Nuan Nuan was favored by his brothers after returning home.

Note: Not all elder brothers are biological elder brothers, there are cousins ​​and cousins.

“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.