MTL - The Top Beast Master Reborn In the End of the World - Chapter 351

Three years ago Conquest was released, redefining virtual reality and gaming.

The Apocalypse descended as the world turned into a game. And while everyone panicked, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something wrong with my eyes.[Logging into the Game Master’s Account!]And my ‘oh-so-average’ destiny, changed into ‘is this a cheat life?’ Kind of destiny.[Would you like to Create a Skill? GM Points will be consumed!]While others struggled to kill a single goblin, I was searching for stronger monsters. While they were happy with getting even a random weak skill, I was customizing what kind of skills I needed.Even my Talents and Gifts can be customised. The only limit was my imagination.Heck, even the hidden quests that people would trigger randomly were present in front of me even before the scenario began.It wasn’t fair by any means. But isn’t that how life is already?[Would you like to make changes to the quests in the next scenario? GM Points will be consumed!]Is this how an apocalypse is supposed to be? I don’t know. I just tried following the script in front of everyone while trying out my cheat in hindsight. Don't get me wrong with the ‘pig eating tiger’ kind of thing. I just don’t like attention. I would rather stay with two trusted friends than with 10 fake ones.[Would you like to Initiate a Custom quest for the Players? GM Points will be consumed!]And for the players who were bullying the ‘weak’ me. One may even wonder how they ended up losing half of their stats and skills in a randomly triggered impossible type of quest.Fate can be truly scary, you know?One must always be careful of it.

“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.

One moment, Lucas closed his eyes to sleep. The next, he opened them to find himself not in his bedroom, but in a courtroom.Even more startling, he was in a different body.Lucas was confused, but there was no time to dwell on it.Why?Because....“Your Honour, please sentence him to death!”the prosecutor demanded, looking directly at Lucas, who was seated on the judge's bench.'It seems I have become a judge.' Lucas realized.