MTL - Once Upon a Time In Hollywood - Chapter 437 Rolling interest Rolling interest

Guzi transmigrated into a novel and became a character in a story about a true and false rich heiress.While others who transmigrated into novels become the true heiress, she became the fake heiress. To make matters worse, both she and the true heiress are engaged.She was engaged to the son of a military leader, while the true heiress was engaged to a divorced man with three children from his previous marriage.Guzi's parents, caring for the true heiress, decide to have Guzi marry in her place. In the book, the character “Guzi” was furious and attempted suicide but failed.As a result, she lost the love and favor of her parents. After marrying the divorced man,“Guzi” blamed him for all the wrongdoings and mistreated his children. Eventually, he could no longer tolerate her actions and divorced her. “Guzi” would become a destitute beggar and die miserably on the street.After transmigrating into the book, Guzi left her family and married the divorced man. When she faced the man and his three children, Guzi believed that the original owner of her body made a terrible mistake.This was a painless experience of being a mother without any hardships to endure!On the other hand, the true heiress had to deal with her husband's illegitimate child and fight for family assets. She would lead a daily life full of hardships.The true heiress consoled herself, thinking that she was still better off than Guzi. She had to raise someone else's child and care for an old man.However, one day she sees Guzi stepping out of a luxurious car with a protruding belly, supported by the richest man in the city.Looking aggrieved, Guzi got out of the car and said, “We agreed not to have children!”The man beside her responded tenderly, “Sorry, my mistake.”

What if your own father and his mistress were behind your mother’s death? What if you were about to be sold if to a scumbag?

Everyone has friends in their lives, right?They can be anyone—good friends, bad friends, or even... friends with benefits.Ahem!Anyway, the point is, everyone has friends. And so did I.I was friends with author of web novel.Yeah, was.A small argument over how the main character should act in novel of [World’s Greatest Hero] led to a fight with my friend, the author.Still frustrated, I stormed out of his house... and that’s when Truck-kun hit me.But that wasn’t the worst part.The worst part? I woke up in a different body—the body of a side character in my friend’s novel.A character who is supposed to die in the prologue.[Your body is dying!][You don’t have much time left.][The creator of this world is mocking you.]F#ck you, Author.F#ck this novel.I will survive, and when I do—I'll beat you to a pulp!

“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.