MTL - Peak Strength - v4 Chapter 495 Resentment

After Tan Ming got pregnant, her husband handed her divorce papers. Twenty-three years ago, Tan Ming was still an orphan nobody wanted. Her adoptive parents adopted her from an orphanage because they struggled to have their own children.

However, Tan Ming’s unfortunate fate did not change because of this. Within a month, her adoptive mother became pregnant. After her younger sister, Tan Si, was born, Tan Ming became the most disliked person in the family. Ever since she was a child, she had to give way to Tan Si in everything. Her parents only liked Tan Si because Tan Ming was not their biological child.

Three years ago, the Tan family forced her to marry a comatose man for the sake of their business. For two entire years, Tan Ming lived as a widow. Until a year ago, when her comatose husband woke up unexpectedly, Tan Si fell in love with him at first sight. This time, Tan Ming decided not to give in anymore. She decisively tried to severe ties with the Tan family. However, she didn’t expect to be served divorce papers in the end.

For the sake of the children in her womb, Tan Ming was forced by her husband to sign the papers. When the children were born, their biological father was accompanying another woman for her pregnancy test.

Just when Tan Ming’s world was at its darkest, her real relatives showed up. They were such a wealthy family that even the Tan family looked up to them, and they welcomed her home! After returning home, she was no longer an unwanted child. Not only did she have parents who doted on her, but she also had three brothers who pampered her dearly! Later, her ex-husband regretted his decision and came to apologize in person.

“Stay out of my life,” Tan Ming uttered.

Dear readers! Fresh green style, maybe you will like it more in .

Abandoned at birth and raised in an orphanage, a young man endures twenty-five years confined to a body ravaged by a rare genetic disease that kept him in constant pain and left him bedridden in his final years. His life ends quietly, without fanfare, as the flatline echoes through his lonely room.But death isn’t the end.Awakening in a realm of pure nothingness, he’s offered the one thing life never gave him: a second chance, and with it, a system shaped from his deepest desires.Given the opportunity to be reborn with the potential to become the Greatest of All Time in any field, his decision is instant. He chooses Formula 1, the one passion that kept him going during his darkest hours.Armed with a custom-built system, a new life, and the relentless drive of someone who has truly suffered, he is reborn in 2003. This time, he won’t just watch from the sidelines.Disclaimer: All characters and events in this story are purely fictional and have no association with real individuals, organizations, or historical events. Any resemblance to real-life figures is purely coincidental and used for narrative realism.

This is the story of a young boy who steps into the world of immortals.If you love Fantasy and cultivation novels, then you can give it a shot.It will be slow paced in start, but I will try my best to not make it too slow, that it might become unbearable to read.The main character (MC) will be a lone individual, avoiding excessive social interactions, including friendships.This is my first novel, so please forgive any errors. I will do my best to make it as error-free as possible.Do remind me in the comments for any errors.

“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.