MTL - Please Sink In Happiness - Chapter 70

A detective travels across the United States and becomes an agent of the Los Angeles Police Department.

After getting through the initial confusion, he repeatedly solved strange cases, became famous all over the world, and was called the most legendary detective in history…

- Description from novelbuddy

Ryzel, a nineteen-year-old guide, was expecting to marry Dwight, but the man changed his mind a month before the wedding.“I’m sorry, Ryzel.I wanted a nice and compassionate wife, so I am going to marry Sean instead.Unlike you, who were usually preoccupied with other things, he always showed concern for me.Not to mention how highly compatible we are with one another.I've actually met him before, but he persuaded me to date you because he feels sorry for you.”Without even waiting for Ryzel's response, the man left.Ryzel, who was left behind, can't even bother caring about his heart because he's been dealing with a lot of issues as a result of the sudden rejection.He was turning 20 in a month, which meant he had to be married according to the federation's laws.After he reaches the age of 20, the government's assistance will cease, leaving him to fend for his own expenses.If he is not married to a powerful sentinel, he will not be able to reclaim his inheritance and will be forced to die on the front lines.He instantly began looking for solutions, but his hope kept dwindling as his birthday approached without a proper solution to his problems.On the day he felt all hope was lost, his ex’s superior, General Lewis, proposed to him.“I'm not gentle and kind; my priority probably won’t be you; our compatibility may not be high; do you still want to marry me?” Ryzel questioned, fixing his gaze on the general.“It's okay, I don't need my wife to be gentle and kind. Our compatibility is also high. You can focus on your studies, job, or dreams. As long as you remember that you are my guide.”“Okay, let’s get married.”------------------------This is the story of Ryzel's advancement in career and love life, even with all the troubles surrounding him.

Upon transmigrating, she immediately faces a disastrous flood, and then has to deal with a marriage swap to an old man who is both slovenly and hunchbacked?Someone: My wife, truly majestic and dominant!PS: This story includes a space with a bit of fantasy, and there's only the heroine who is reborn through transmigration.

“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.