MTL - I Know Everything - Chapter 1262 Increase business

Thiago has nothing—no money, no connections, not even shoes.Just raw talent, a dream, and a strange System only he can see.From the streets of Rio to the world stage, this is the story of a boy who plays to survive—and fights to rise.

A martial art expert from the Song dynasty lives like a Phoenix that can live again in another body after death. This time, he happened to take over the body of a Japanese high schooler who is also a victim of bullying and has a bit complicated family circumstances.

- Description from Novelupdates

When Mikel opened his new eye, the dead opened their doors.Mikel was just an ordinary, troubled teen until an accident stole his sight.When an experimental surgery gives him a strange new eye, he begins to see more than just the world of the living... and the dead.Haunting visions, ghostly figures, cursed relics, and a mysterious blue interface named Doom — speaking in glowing symbols and shifting data — start to rewrite everything he thought he knew about reality.And as the truth comes into focus, Mikel realized he might be a part of something bigger and far more dangerous than he could’ve imagined.Standing between these worlds, survival isn’t guaranteed. Sanity, even less so.[Welcome to Shaman Protocol.Terms and Conditions (and sanity) not guaranteed.]

“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.