MTL - Rubik’s Cube Heavens - v6 Chapter 10 offensive

People say that when a man becomes middle aged, their appearance and energy will become weak. Ye Qing Xin doesn’t feel that way. At least Jing Bo Yuan is not, his appearance and energy is still really great.

What the hell? That menace who bullied me since I was six years old, actually became a pretty girl after three years of living apart? And she even ran to our agreed duel location to confess to me, hoping that I can become her boyfriend?!

This is a plot against me! There’s definitely an enormous conspiracy behind this! I won’t be fooled by you! Even if you tear up and act all pitiful, I will still disregard you and humiliate you, until you’ve have completely paid back all my childhood grievances!

What’cha lookin’at? There are very reasonable grounds for bullying a girl!

- Description from Novelupdates

The world’s largest VRMMO, Conviction, was almost like a second world for humanity. It had integrated itself into the real world’s economy, with both corporations and individuals seeking their fortunes through the game.

In this game, Nie Yan prided himself in his Level 180 Thief. He could barely be considered among the top experts in the game. Though, that was the only thing he could take pride in. He was penniless and unable to advance in life; a situation he was forced into by the enemy of his father. If it weren’t for the little money he made by selling off items in Conviction, he would’ve barely been able to eat. In the end, he chose to settle his matters once and for all. He assassinated his father’s enemy. He lay dying shortly after being shot in the pursuit.

However, that wasn’t the end of his story. Instead, he awoke moments later to find that he had reincarnated into his past self. Armed with his experience and knowledge of future events, he sets out to live his life anew.

“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.