MTL - Mr. Lu Wants To Promise By Marriage - Chapter 1047 Return... (6)

There once was a very popular question on the internet:

If one morning, you woke up and realized that your gender had changed, what would be your first reaction?

And someone on the internet had famously responded:

First, give your bros a good time!

Su Jian remembered that when he saw this reply, he had slapped the table to express his admiration. What a good bro! Such loyalty!

But now that he actually encountered this strange situation himself, he could only feel an extremely ball-breaking alarm, shocked grief, and frightened anger. **** your mom! Ah, ****! **** it!

Oh, a correction. The above is grammatically incorrect. After all, poor Classmate Su Jian doesn’t have balls anymore.

A young surgeon, who is struck by a system, embarks on a bizarre journey of life.

On the 15th of March 2139, the world mourns the passing of Darius Stone, billionaire broker, and philanthropist.

Yet while his family and friends put his body to rest, Darius wakes up to find himself reborn into a younger body in a different world.

A strange voice informs him that his soul has been transported into the magic-filled world of Faust on the behest of a mysterious Goddess called Vena, for the sole purpose of entertaining her through his struggles.

In this world where any dream can be achieved with enough effort, he sets out to become a Supreme, an existence above Mortals and even Gods!

.........

Warning: This novel features a villainous protagonist. If you have enjoyed Warlock of the Magus World, then you should be able to tolerate Darius Stone’s actions and choices throughout the novel in terms of Morality.

Note: This story is slow-paced in order to allow for better world-building and development. If you’re looking for a fast-paced action story, this might not be for you.

“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.