MTL - Call Me God of War - Chapter 97

“It’s fine, everything can be restarted.”Gu Huanyue opened her eyes slowly and a smile shown on her face.In her previous life, she was betrayed by her relatives and missed the right one eventually.Now that the god gave her another chance, she must regain all her lost and let those people who hurt her pay the price.This time, her business was developed and expanded so quickly with the help of her super EQ & IQ.She became the most shining and rich one. All kinds of handsome men were attracted by her beauty and became her loyal followers.However, she won’t never forget that man. A guy who truly love her so much.He: “Huanyue, would you like to marry me?”She: “Why did he not follow my plan? But yes, I do.”

One moment, Lucas closed his eyes to sleep. The next, he opened them to find himself not in his bedroom, but in a courtroom.Even more startling, he was in a different body.Lucas was confused, but there was no time to dwell on it.Why?Because....“Your Honour, please sentence him to death!”the prosecutor demanded, looking directly at Lucas, who was seated on the judge's bench.'It seems I have become a judge.' Lucas realized.

Three years ago, in the land of Reinbulk, a Legendary Hero was summoned in the Kindom of Leezalion and he succeeded in repelling the Demon King. Now, five students are summoned back into Reinbulk by the Kingdom of Luxeria to fight against the Demon King and the demon army. Unlike the other heroes, Yashiro Yuu has no magical affinity and the Luxeria Kingdom has no intention on acknowledging his existence or returning him to his world.

“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.