MTL - Evolved From Polluting the World - Chapter 18 lust

The happiest thing in the world is to be able to amend what you have done wrong. She who acted willfully because of a game, was reincarnated into a time when she still had her parents’ love.

The Imperial Court of Tang Empire became dim and corrupt. The Emperor believed eunuchs. The officials vied with each other for authority. The Tang Empire was about to collapse. The flouring Confucianism, Buddhism and Taoism eyed it covetously. The three sects wanted to contend for the domination of the whole world. Which one would win in the end? Or would they coexist peacefully at last? Armies of different nations invaded the frontier on all sides. People and the whole world were in extreme misery. Who could save them?

A young man of the Imperial Clan was reborn in Chang’an. In the Last Life, he was framed and was driven out of his place. He was the king of the subjugated country. When he wandered on the streets, he wanted to be an ordinary people and live an ordinary life in Chang’an but failed.

In this life, he determined to fight against the heaven and change his own fate. He would not give those people an opportunity who framed him in his Last Life. He would hold his title and his place. In order to maintain order and peace of the world, he was going to wipe out all villains of the whole world with the Imperial Sword, adhere to the emperor’s principle, and enact the new national law. He would rule over the empire to prove himself.

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.

The worst student of Westroad Academy. The disgrace of the Blake House. A new soul enters the body of Frey Blake, who couldn’t overcome his miserable life and chose death instead.