Reborn To Love - Chapter 221 The Three Brothers

The story centers on Adam, a young man living a life of extreme hardship. Betrayed and cast out by his own family at a young age, he is forced to survive on the streets, working grueling, low-paying jobs just to make ends meet. His existence is a constant struggle against poverty and despair.Everything changes when Adam discovers a mysterious application on his smartphone. This app has a single, reality-altering function: every time he taps the screen, one dollar is instantly deposited into his bank account.At first, Adam uses the app to solve his immediate problems—buying food and securing a place to live. But as he taps his way from hundreds to thousands, and then to millions of dollars, his ambition and vision expand exponentially. He transitions from a destitute outcast to a global magnate, creating a business empire that astounds the world.People point in awe and say, “Look, that's Adam's mobile company,” as they admire the most high-tech smartphones on the market. They marvel at sleek, futuristic cars on the road, remarking, “That car is from Adam's company.” His influence even reaches for the stars, with observers noting, “That new rocket company? Adam started that too.”

Ethan Carter was a failed fantasy author who died overworked and bitter. When he wakes up in the world of his own unfinished novel, he finds himself reborn as Darius Wycliffe, a weak and arrogant noble fated to be killed by the protagonist, Lucien Ashford, the Archmage’s Disciple.But Ethan refuses to die so easily. Armed with his knowledge of the world’s secrets and a unique ability to rewrite spells, he dives into the forbidden magic he once created but never fully explored. As he grows stronger, he uncovers terrifying truths about the world he thought he knew.To survive, Ethan must defy destiny, master the deadliest of magics, and challenge the very hero he once wrote to be unbeatable. But what happens when the lines between hero and villain start to blur?

Richard Maddox, a once-promising football prodigy, dreamed of becoming a star. But just as his dream was within reach, it was abruptly shattered when he banged his head on the goalpost, fracturing his skull. Forced into early retirement, Richard vanished from the public eye.People thought Richard Maddox was done for. However, no one expected that during his unconscious state, his spirit detached from his body. He drifted through time, witnessing the world of football from the perspective of a ghost. It was strange, unpleasant, yet exciting. No need for tickets or travel—he could simply fly.England, Italy, Spain, Germany—the best football countries in Europe—and even the passionate South America, the energetic Africa, and the growing Asia—Richard observed the rise and fall of football giants, all from the sidelines.However, watching football from the other side was quite different from experiencing it live. He missed the cheering, singing, and chanting with the other fans. No one could hear him now. No one could watch football with him. He was... alone.Just as Richard was about to be bored to death, his soul was sucked back, and he realized that only an entire year had passed.'Interesting,' he thought, laughing. “I could bet, invest in companies that will succeed in the future, and get rich. Bitcoin, I'm coming, baby.”but who could have guessed that Richard would dive so deep into the world of football—From owning a single share to testing the waters as a scout, trying his hand as an agent, and eventually stepping into the world of coaching, before finally diving into the realm of football club ownership.It has truly been a full spectrum of football, the highs and the lows. Join us as we welcome Richard Maddox!

“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.