Spoiled By the Young Master After Reborn In the 80s - Chapter 146: One hundred forty-five, enhancement.

Roland was just a normal college student living peacefully in an H-Grade City when he experienced his very first devastating heartbreak.

He found out that his girlfriend of two years was cheating on him with the City Councilor’s son, she even embarrassed him in front of a lot of people.

When Roland was already completely devastated and was already at his wits end, a virtual screen suddenly appeared in front of his eyes.

[Requirements: Experience a devastating heartbreak(Completed)]

[System bound!]

[Congratulations for unlocking the Face-Slapping System!]

Since then, Roland’s life has taken a complete turn.

Excerpt:“Are you satisfied?” he asked, walking to the fire where she already sat. “Can you yet call yourself the greatest knight?”“Not until I can beat you,” Irene argued.Despite how serious he looked only moments before, he cracked a smile.“But you saved my life,” he insisted.Synopsis:With a second chance given to her after a pathetic ending to a life she didn’t want, Irene Litharion decides that she will follow in her father’s footsteps and become a knight.Waking up in the body of her eleven year old self, she’s reinvigorated to follow her heart. She has the rare blood of ancient warriors in her veins and promises to not turn her back to it anymore.Prepared for the sacrifices she will have to make to live the life she wants, a new challenge is presented when the only way she can become an apprentice knight is to turn her back on femininity altogether. The years she spent being forced to attend etiquette lessons go out the window and instead, daily sword practice takes place.Her father does all he can to get her into the knighthood, but it’s up to her to show her strength and skill to stay in it.However, it’s different than she expects when the Monster War ravages her homeland, she learns the sting of loss, and secrets of her own blood present themselves the more she leans into the thrill of battle.

An Extra is a minor background character with little to no influence on the main story. Their purpose is to fill out scenes and represent the larger world in which the story takes place.Yet,One Extra defied its existence. One Extra destroyed the story.********Luke, an editor, was transmigrated into the story with one goal:“Kill The Extra.”

“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.