MTL - All My Disciples Are Kings - Chapter 795 unusual breath

Hunter Cha Eui-jae, who was dispatched to seal a rift that appeared over the West Sea, was flung out as soon as he closed the rift. When he came to his senses, he was lying in a garbage dump.Starving, he was drawn like a zombie is to blood to a hangover soup restaurant, where he realized that he had fallen into South Korea, eight years in the future.In this era, disaster alerts notify people of rift openings in advance, ASMR videos of slimes gathered from dungeons were trending, and idle hunters livestream unboxings of A-rank longswords.Unlike the past, where people trembled in fear of an impending apocalypse, the future was surprisingly peaceful, leaving Cha Eui-jae feeling empty. Since things had turned out this way, why not start a second chapter of life as a part-timer at the hangover soup restaurant, rather than being a hunter?“That’s strange.”“…”“Have we met somewhere before?”Cha Eui-jae’s plan to quietly spend his remaining days as the only part-time worker at the decades-old hangover soup restaurant goes awry when he encounters a mysterious, gas-masked individual…

After getting betrayed and killed by the only person she’d loved, Miss Shang wakes up in the body of the cowardly crown prince Shang Wuxin, who, due to her own circumstances, was actually a girl cross-dressing as a boy. After inheriting the crown prince’s memories, Shang Wuxin has three things on her agenda:

1. Clean up the house

2. Gather loyal followers and soldiers

3. Get the throne

“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.