MTL - Miracle Doctor, Abandoned Daughter: The Sly Emperor’s Wild Beast-Tamer Empress - Chapter 6832 Trip to South Africa (74)

He lived a life of mediocrity, plagued by regret. Instead of pursuing his dream of becoming a pro boxer, he listened to others and became a corporate slave. He was wrongly accused when money went missing from the company's account. He lost everything—his job, his friends, and even his family turned their backs on him.

Eventually, he became homeless.

On the same day, he witnessed a homeless woman being attacked in a dark alley while everyone ignored her shouts for help. Despite his own struggles, he couldn't ignore her plight. He decided to step in to protect her. Still, that only caused his downfall. He was stabbed to death…

Still, fate wasn’t done with him, and he had the chance to be reborn in a world of truly Infinite Paths… (The Human Path was unlocked) (You obtained the skill of Language.)

His story was a painful reminder of the consequences of settling for an ordinary life and the remorse that comes with it. His death highlighted the harsh reality of how his choices and circumstances led him to this tragic end. It served as a powerful message to him to strive for something greater, to never lose sight of his dreams, and to extend a helping hand to those in need, even in our darkest moments.

This time, he will live his life without regrets…

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“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.

The paramount existences among daemons are known as ‘Great Sages’.

A young man leaves the mountain village and wanders the world, entering the legends step by step, becoming a part of mythology itself.

Every author loves their story.Sure, you may get tired of writing it after quite a while, but even so; it was a novel you enjoyed writing before, no?The words you put consideration to, the effort you did research overnight.The thrill to have a reader, the thought of someone enjoyed your work.All of it was something you used to cherish, but you may end up forgetting the joy over small things one day as you move on.Everyone loves their work.But some forget they did.