MTL - Naruto: I Became Naruto’s Blackened Personality - Chapter 83

Zeke Draker,The first failure to awaken among the direct descendants of the Dragonslayer family.Expelled from his family for possessing the talent of a Healer instead of a swordsman.Zeke struggled desperately to become stronger, only to face a miserable death.At the moment of his death, strange letters appeared before his eyes.[The soul of the Elder Dragon is engraved into the spirit of the one who possesses will.][An irrevocable and promised power is activated.]When he regained consciousness, he opened his eyes twenty years in the past, in the family that had abandoned him.“If I can become stronger, I will use anything at my disposal.”A new awakening with an immortal power.The legend of a Dragonslayer with a different class begins.

Scheming female assassin transmigrated to become the weak Eldest Miss, her story is wonderful and stunning, attracting peach flowers to blossom open. Cold calculating emperor? Genius bad crown prince? Insidious happy-go-lucky prince? Gentle physician? Ice-cold mystery male? Who is her true love? Haha, but she only eats, definitely will not take responsibility! Beautiful men be careful!

- Description from Novelupdates

“A modern online novel writer who had been struggling finds themselves transported into the world of One Piece, becoming a 10-year-old child.After a series of events, Ryuen arrives at Cocoyasi Village. The protagonist possesses the Tori Tori no Mi (Bird-Bird Fruit), Mythical Zoan type, Phoenix form.After undergoing a rebirth (Nirvana), the protagonist's transformation no longer involves turning their hands into wings, and the fruit's power becomes even stronger!From the moment they reach Cocoyasi Village, the protagonist and Nami embark on an adventure, traveling from island to island, indulging in food, drink, and fun. Along the way, they also help the poor by taking from the rich, because, after all, Bellmere’s family is still...”

“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.