MTL - Unexpectedly, I Traveled Again and Again - Chapter 561 If you dare to stand in front of you, just 1 and sweep it into the dustbin of history

In a fascinating new world, Sam finds himself reincarnated as a developer of unique simulations for a society of monster hunters known as “Hunters.” These skilled individuals employ advanced simulations to sharpen their abilities and acquire new skills essential for their dangerous profession. Drawing from the popular video games of his past life, Sam crafts immersive experiences that challenge and prepare the Hunters for the perils they face. As he navigates this thrilling realm, he discovers the impact of his creations and the true essence of bravery in the fight against formidable monsters.

“Martial Arts World...” Death murmured, shocked by the turn of the events. How could he, primordial being of the afterlife, get tricked by a mere human? Not just a mere human, but also earthling, race that was weakest of the twenty realms. Death realized the extent of his mistake. An earthling had just jumped into the river of the reincarnation, where he definitely didn’t belong. It was too late. The damage has been done. The matter was now out of his hands. “Kiernan Hunter...” ... Remake of the Martial Arts System, and while the concept stays the same, the story is completely different. A few names, etc, stays the same, but mostly whole new story.

In Amukelo, you can expect a fantasy adventure filled with action and complex characters facing tough moral choices. The story involves intense battles, quests across dangerous lands, and a deeper struggle against both demonic forces and inner turmoil. Themes of revenge, redemption, friendship, and the weight of past trauma are woven throughout, with high stakes that escalate as the world faces a growing supernatural threat.

“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.