MTL - One Punch Man: Eight Strange Skills at the Beginning - Chapter 311

An alien abduction romance. Updates Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.Grant has a tolerance for boredom. Late shift in a middle-of-nowhere facility? Sign him up. If the money's good, he'll happily take the peace and quiet of a long night watching an empty cell.And then he meets Subject B-31. Blue, beautiful, and completely inhuman. Her captors call her Batty, thanks to her big ears and the way she hangs upside down by her tail.He's told not to talk to her. He's told to think of her as a test subject, not a person. He's told to cash his checks and live his humble life. He's told to ignore the sorrow on her face and the desperation in her crimson eyes. Maybe he should have listened. When he finally busts her out, the rescue isn't a rescue at all: it's an abduction.Batty is Princess Sykora, of the tyrannical Taiikari Empire. She commands the Black Pike, a massive voidship on the imperial frontier. Grant must learn a new life, in a firmament filled with ambitious nobles, deadly rivals, and the sinister smiles of the Taiikari Imperial Court. And he'll have to learn fast.Because when the Princess of the Void looks at Grant, she doesn't just see a savior—she sees a husband.And she isn't asking.

Under a twist of fate, Aurus was struck by a bolt of lightning, making him realize that he would never have the chance to play the game he poured most of his time and effort into ever again.

Fortunately, a goddess took pity on his miserable fate and gave him two choices: the first one was to reincarnate through the Six Paths of Reincarnation, and the second one…was to reincarnate as a stick. Hearing the second choice, Aurus could not help but remember...that this was exactly the starting character of the game he used to play!

Without hesitation, Aurus chose the latter, bringing a smile to the goddess’ face…which seemed to contain secrets and desires hidden to the naked eye.

And so, Aurus was reborn into a world that he was familiar with, albeit this time—he was now living a life as a stick!

Though that may be the case, witness the adventures of Aurus as he turns the expectations of everyone around him upside down as he gradually returns to his previous heights… and perhaps, far beyond it!

Witness the birth of a supreme being...from its roots!

Note: Please understand that the beginning of this novel was written at a time where I didn't know a lot about pacing and other important stuff crucial in writing. Once you get past that point (around the midpoint of Volume 2), it gets better. I hope you enjoy reading!

Thalion’s life as a marine biologist was modest in wealth but rich in joy and fulfillment. The arrival of the system sent everyone on Earth into a tutorial while merging it with four other planets. Not everything was bad, though. The system granted people magic and even ways to defy time itself. For now, everyone struggles to survive the tutorial, which has become more of a slaughter trial than a learning experience.If you like stories with Shapeshifters and Bloodmages. Check this out!!! A post-apocalyptic LitRPG series inspired by The Primal Hunter, Defiance of the Fall, and Elden Ring.Release Schedule:Five chapters a week. (Wordcount between 2,000 and 3,000)Also, this novel is posted on Royal Road and Patreon with Patreon being up to 60 chapters ahead of the Royal Road release.What to expect:-Multi-POV Storytelling but mostly main character-Adaptive Magic System – The magic evolves based on the wielder, making every spellcaster’s abilities truly unique.-No harem-Entities Beyond Humanity-Expansive Worldbuilding

“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.