MTL - Papa Paladin - Chapter 64 kick back

[Warning: Mature content, lemons, comedy, face-slapping, and a smart protagonist!]“So many beautiful girls!”After an unfortunate science experiment gone wrong, 25-year-old virgin Ren Kisaragi, wakes up in a strange new world.A world where curses manifest as eldritch horrors, bringing destruction with every breath.A world where female weavers command the very laws of reality and bend the elements to their will, while male warriors, blessed with monstrous strength, can shatter mountains with a single blow.It doesn’t take long before he realizes he has reincarnated into “Mystic Chronicles”, a fantasy novel he once read and dropped out of boredom.However, he isn't the protagonist or even a side character, he’s just a nameless extra, a mere background figure destined to fade into obscurity.But there’s one problem. He’s somehow enrolled at Imperial Academy, the most prestigious weaver academy in the kingdom… which is supposed to be an all-girls school!And as the only male weaver in an entire academy of talented (and terrifying) female weavers, his existence alone is enough to shatter the balance of the world.With a suspiciously broken cheat, an entire school of powerful and competitive girls watching his every move, and curses lurking in the shadows, Ren must navigate this chaotic new life before he gets caught up in a story that was never meant to include him.But maybe—just maybe—he can turn this anomaly into an advantage. And if fate allows, fulfill his lifelong dream of being surrounded by beautiful, ambitious women while he's at it.Can he survive this world where he's the ultimate anomaly?

Broken-hearted and drunk, Yoshida, a 26-years old salaryman, stumbled upon a runaway-from-home high-schooler on his way back from the bar.

“Hey, you. JK.”*

“What the heck are you doing out here. Go home already.”

“Uncle, let me stay at your place for the night.”

“You can do ‘that’ to me if you let me stay.”

“If you meant that as a joke, it’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking. It’s fine by me.”

“Then allow me to tell you that I have no interest in brats.”

“Hmm?”

“Then, just let me stay.”

Notes:

[*] JK is slang for Joushikousei (high school girl)

The world was hit by an abnormal narcolepsy, and there was a mass coma. Lee-joonhyuk was transferred to a dimensional battle field as he fell into an abnormal narcoleptic sleep. This is the story of him as he starts as a minion.

“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.