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... than he was to the Midland Controller Alliance, and it was also from Lumbar. The relationship between the two was also the closest.

Merlin shook her head and sighed, "Ourumba, even if you want to complete the task, you don't have to be in a hurry."

Up to now Merlin was a bit confused, why Olumba was so anxious, and it was almost unheard of to go to Naya for trouble.

It seemed to know what Merlin was thinking, and Olumba said calmly, "One of the two people killed by Naya had ...

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The six prefectures of Zhongbo were offered to foreign enemies on a silver platter, and Shen Zechuan was taken into custody in the capital, reduced to a drowning dog—loathed and condemned by all.Xiao Chiye followed the scent of the furor and made his way over. But instead of setting others on him, he kicked Shen Zechuan with his very own leg, rendering the latter an invalid. Who would expect this invalid to turn around and bite him in a counterattack until he was all drenched in blood?That was the start of an epic feud between both men who tore at each other every time they come face-to-face with one another.“Fate wants to bind me here for life, but this is not the path I choose. The yellow dust submerged my brothers deep under. I have no wish to bow in submission to an illusory fate. The imperial edict can’t save my troops, and the imperial court can’t fill the stomachs of my mounts. I’m no longer willing to lay down my life for this purpose. I want to surmount that mountain. I am going to fight for myself.”Note: A ‘drowning dog’ is someone who is down and out, having lost favor or power.

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The “S-rank Hero Factory” that raised 1,000 S-rank heroes.

The graduates’ manufacturing machine.

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Traveling to Tokyo in the second year of the economic bubble, he was adopted in an orphanage at the age of twelve and became a fifth-grade pupil at Heiwa Elementary School.

There is no One Punch Man, no Conan’s nirvana when he arrives at the scene, no system, no golden finger, the only fun in life is to go fishing with Tian Kongkui, the little albino girl next door, and occasionally deliberately score zero in the test Ben Yukiko’s mother was angry.

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Sorry, too much homework, no interest, finish writing and go fishing.

How about singing “lemon” and breaking arms with Kimura Takuya, or taking part in “Love Letter” to take away the male lead role of Takashi Kashiwahara?

Please, don’t you sleep well for a while, and go fishing in the afternoon.

“School will be closed tomorrow, Tian Kongkui, remember to put on the most beautiful little white dress. I will also put on a tie and a white shirt. After meeting at three o’clock in the afternoon, I will leave on time.”

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“People are in Tokyo, don’t fall in love”, “From the countryside of Tokyo to a national idol”, “I’m a primary school student, that’s all”, “Madam, can you sit far away from me?” “It’s better to buy karaoke money Bait, so I sang a cappella on the side of the road”

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“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.