MTL - I Thought I Got the Redemption Script - Chapter 66

This novel is about low ranking staff Shan Shan being oppressed by the Big Boss. She keeps fighting but keeps losing. So she finally stopped struggling and obediently surrendered…

Shan Shan, extremely docile, waited outside the delivery room at the temporary blood bank. At the same time, the big boss sent her away to do a blood test to ensure she was of good health and suitable blood type.

Sure enough, the pregnant woman was in a critical condition. Thus, Shan Shan obediently let 300 cc of her blood being pumped. The condition of the pregnant woman improved. Shan Shan received many thanks, left the hospital and lamented this while looking at the moon:

“Capitalists really are blood-suckers, heartless, heartless.”

Shan Shan, who is deep in thought, did not notice a black limousine has stopped behind her. The man at the back seat heard her sigh, moved his mouth and then closed the recently opened window.

“Drive home.”

“Boss, didn’t you just say you want to send Miss Xue back?”

“No need,” the man said without expression, “capitalists are heartless.”

On that day, due to the outbreak of an unprecedented and abnormal event, 41 students from class 2-7 of Shiromine Academy are summoned to a different world, one full of magic.

Separated and summoned inside a vast dungeon, where the only way to escape is to head to the deepest area, they are given the power of a Divine Protection 『Vocation』 as the only means of survival.

While some of them are brave, some just do whatever they want, and some harbor treacherous intentions, they all aim to capture the dungeon.

In this place, one person gained a 『Vocation』 whose skills are unsuitable for combat, attendance number 19, Momokawa Kotaro.

A boy with a small and lean build from the Literature Club wasn’t blessed with a physical ability, swordsmanship, or strong magic, rather he only had the 『Shaman』 vocation to rely on.

After being driven out of the group and left behind by his powerful classmates —– his survival instinct starts running at full throttle!

Pushed to the limit of survival in the different world’s dungeon, what starts with trusting and loving each other soon ends in killing and betrayal.

The most beautiful and gruesome battle royale has raised its curtain.

Here, only those with spiritual roots can cultivate while those with mortal roots are destined to stay mortal.

Mo Wuji only has mortal roots, but will he only remain as a mortal?

- 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.