MTL - The Last Apostle - v7 Chapter 88 Illusion

Past life, her spirit root was dug out from her body. She had wholeheartedly dedicated herself to the just path, but she was sentenced as an evil demonic cultivator.

Cha Myung-jun, a sergeant who neared the end of his military service, found himself confined in the Ministry of National Defense’s bas**ent for over three decades due to his newly awakened abilities, just before the outbreak of war. Spending thirty years as the world’s most formidable blacksmith, wielding nothing but hammers, he skillfully outwits the watchful eyes of the Ministry of Defense to serve the war effort and reset the course of time. Now given a second chance at life, can he lead a successful campaign to avert humanity’s downfall and secure its salvation?

Back in 1996, the eldest daughter of Oldman Xie’s Family, Xie Wanying, said that she wanted to be a surgeon, to which many people laughed at her .

“ A Phoenix gives birth to a phoenix. And a dog gives birth to a dog. A truck driver’s daughter will be a doctor, when pigs learn how to climb trees. ”

“I’m not just going to be a doctor, I’m going to be a cardiothoracic surgeon,”Xie Wanying said.

Her sentence created a thousand waves in the medical circle. A relative doctor of their family even ridiculed her sternly and said: “Do you know how high the admission score for medical students is? Can you even pass the exam?”

“There are zero female cardiothoracic surgeons in the country, if the top female doctors could not make it that far who do you think you are!”

A group of people ridiculed: “You will only get admitted to a third-rate medical school and be a hygienist in a small county. Who will you marry in the future? ”

But she proved them wrong, at the end of the college entrance examination, Xie Wanying entered the top class of surgery in the country with the province’s top prize in science. She entered the top hospital in the capital and was sought after by the director of the surgical departments while she was still an intern. “Student Xie Wanying, you must come to general surgery.”

“No, you must go to our urology—”

“Pediatric surgery lacks female doctors like Xie Wanying.”

All her relatives Wechat moments:……….

At this time, Xie Wanying independently completed the national youngest tetralogy of Fallot surgery, represented the domestic cardio-thoracic surgery association to participate in the international medical forum, and published the world’s first minimally invasive heart valve repair operation, which was a worthy feat considering she was the top female surgeon!

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.