I Became the Maid of the Lout Prince - Chapter 45: The Sword Carries the Will (4)

Suddenly, the mysterious book I received turned out to describe my own life?Once I chose to change my destiny, the life within the book changed as well.In the book, I encountered insincerity, spent ten years behind bars, and witnessed viruses laying Siege...Cancer, bus plunging off cliffs, plane crashes, senile dementia ... even the end of days – a variety of deaths; was this fate's punishment for the rebels?No one is a hero; it is just that this disaster-ridden fate forcibly made me into a warrior charging into battle.Those who killed me over and over will ultimately make me stronger!Through numerous life simulations, I amassed wealth from the financial markets, rescued innocent girls from felons, and acquired advanced technology from the future...Although I always encounter various disasters and accidents, I still strive to flutter the butterfly's wings, changing my original fate little by little.After countless simulations, the world too embarked on a completely different path.However, where did this autobiography come from?Behind it all, what kind of unknown conspiracy is lurking...[A literary man's laid-back daily life of unlimited simulations to save the world]

Renea was trying the wedding dress, when suddenly the man rushed in the dressing room and held her neck tightly...“Bitch! Are you still trying to pretend innocent!” Jasper said as he tightened his grip on her neck and choked her harder. Then he used his other hand and took out the phone from his suit pocket and played the video of two people having sex in front of Renea…However, what was even more shocking, was that the woman in the video was, Renea Morris, however, the man in the video was not Jasper.Renea struggled to take a phone away from Jasper’s hand and tried to explain, “Jasper, it was not what you think… I… I can…”Jasper looked at Renea with his eyes full of disgust, as he said, “Let’s call of the wedding. I can’t marry a woman like you.” After saying that Jasper walked out of the shopRenea chase after Jasper...But then she sees Jasper passionately kissing her sister Kailey. And she hears everything, that her sleeping with strange men was all a plan of the vipers of the last two days, and that their goal was to get out of this stupid marriage. Even her adopted parents were also involved in this matter...They all do this with her because of the inheritance left by her grandfather...Renea heart was filled with anger and she wanted to expose their true colors to the public... However before she could do anything, Kailey had pushed her in front of the car and she got killed...However, when Renea open her eyes, she found herself sitting in the car with Kailey... She realized that she was reborn and went at the time when everything started...Renea looked at the people who had hurt her in her previous life and her lips curled up in a cold smile...She was back...However, this time... she was back for revenge...

Keita Sumeragi was a man of dreams—once a hopeful mangaka who poured his soul into heartfelt tales of romance, comedy, and friendship. But the world never smiled back. Readers ignored him. Publishers laughed. And when the only offer he got was to draw the one thing he hated—NTR (Netorare)—he refused.Until life left him no choice.His wife walked out. His daughter starved. And when his first NTR manuscript was complete, the publisher gave the job to someone else.Broken, guilty, and hollow, Keita leapt from the rooftop with a bitter smile—Only to awaken in the world of his own rejected NTR manga.In this twisted realm, he’s reborn as the main protagonist—handsome, popular, and surrounded by women with all-too-familiar faces. His sweet and kind “motherly” wife resembles the wife who left him. His seductive stepsister has the same eyes as his daughter once did.In this warped erotic hell, where anyone can be seduced—teachers, aunts, even grandmothers—Keita must face his deepest guilt, his darkest fantasies, and the genre he once despised.Because in this world, NTR is fate.And the story must go on.

“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.