MTL - The Lady’s Sickly Husband - ~ 098 Thrilling! Bureau of the Bureau

I killed the player.

He was one hell of a f*cker.

Burdened by the crushing debt of his parents, Lex never imagined a life beyond endless work and grief. But fate had other plans.One fateful day, an accident ends his mundane existence—only to thrust him into a world of fantasy. Reincarnated as a side character doomed to fail, Lex now inhabits the body of a so-called teacher—a fraud with no real skills, destined for disgrace.Standing at a crossroads, he faces a choice: follow the canon and flee from his inevitable downfall, or defy fate and carve his own path.Just as he considers running… a voice calls out.[Need some help?]Grasping the talent that his predecessor never realized he had, Adrian decided to defy his fate and become a true Runesmith.However, he never expected that once he would start on the path of becoming a Runesmith, he would start gaining so many connections.[Ding!][Cross-dimension group chat has been activated!][Hero of World Nebula: Old man, when can I get my sword done?][The untamed witch: When will you help me with my staff?][The obsessed one: Darling, when will you do me-I mean, when will you do something about my blades?]....what the heck is all this?°°°°°°°°°A/N:- Read the first few chapters, before deciding to drop it.English won't be perfect, but it will be readable.Additional tags: Cross-world group chat, possessive characters, sudden strength gain, overpowered MC, broken engagement.

“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.

Receiving the terrible news of never again wielding the bow has him spiralling down depression lane.However, things took a turn for the better when he opened up to see he had been transmigrated to a world of his favourite novel, as a character bedridden in a coma for five years.Aldrich Aldaman is an extra who met his end after being in a coma for five years.