MTL - The Words of the Number One - Chapter 2 the journey

The Year 1766

Disowned by her own family for their own reasons, she was taken in by a maid at the age of seven to work at the Carmichael's household. The Carmichael's were one of the respectable pureblooded family in Bonelake and like any other household, there were rules. Rules that needed to be followed by the servants and maids.

Like everyone else, she was reminded not to disobey the rules. But before she learns to walk in the shadows like the rest without a whisper, the Duke's young son calls her 'Bambi' and everything breaks loose.

Book cover credit: complxmars

A virtual underground game that has no protection. Lurking with players who seek power, fortune and survival. Kieran chose to enter this VRMMORPG game without hesitation because he knows this is his only way out from death. Can he escape death in real life or dying via the game?

“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.

“A Virtual Dream Device? What the heck is this?”“Is it used for daydreaming? Nope, not interested.”“What? It could simulate reality at a hundred percent? I could live out half a year in one night's time and bring in a replicate of a real person?Hmm, pretty sweet I must say.”“I'll be the only one left in the world while the others are all gone in the first dream?”“Uhm, I'll like to bring in a female celeb at the pinnacle of her glamor, could I?”