MTL - There’s Something Wrong with this Development! - Chapter 9

He was the cold-blooded prince of the Jin country. Decisive and smart, he had looked down on the world with apathy and disdain.

Once Gu Qingjiu, she was fortunate enough to be born in the “best” family, ended up having a miserable and unjust life.

Reliving her life once more, Gu Qingjiu chooses to enlist in the military and bear the toughest hardships she has ever faced. Everyone says that she’s the least possible person to join the special forces. However, she manages to prove all of them wrong.

Good-for-nothing? Who’s the good-for-nothing? Is she a good-for-nothing when she can throw all of them onto the floor in a fight? Is she a good-for-nothing when she has results better than everyone else? She’ll prove all of them wrong.

Enter Helian Niancheng, the well-known, youngest major-general in Beijing. A banishment sends him into the basic ranks in a military camp as a new recruit. From then on, he meets a person that makes him dote on and protect at all costs, his beloved. However, his beloved is only focused on fighting and killing. Major-general Helian declares this to be a very bad, a very terrible situation. Yet, Gu Qingjiu merely replies,

“Scram! Lower your gun if you dare!”

【Light-hearted and humorous + No female lead + No knives + Survivalist protagonist】- caution, this story is engaging.Chen Xun traversed into the vast and boundless world of cultivation, awakening the Immortal Ascension System, which unexpectedly granted him a companion, a long-lived spiritual beast.I, Chen Xun, have no interest in fighting or killing, nor do I wish to provoke anyone. I only want to travel the world with my old ox and witness all the worldly splendors. However, one day, I inadvertently discovered a secret….

“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.