MTL - After the Global Evolution, I Stand at the Top of the Food Chain - Chapter 170 170

A piece of divorce paper sent Xia Xinghe into a state of destitution. However, a car accident later, she transformed into a professional hacker with more money than she could ever spend. All those that have belittled, bullied and laughed at me, please line up, I’ll show you what the meaning of face-slapping is! Wait, wait, wait. That guy over there, the ex-husband that I no longer have any relations with, don’t cut in line. What, you want to help me face-slap these people? “Not only that I will help you face-slap myself!” The wickedly handsome man with billions of dollar in estate raised his own palm to slap his own face without reservation!

She choked to death after drinking a mouthful of cold water. Was there anything more unlucky than this?

Of course, there was! When she reopened her eyes, she found herself transmigrated into a three-hundred-pound fatty.

Not only was she fat and round, but she also had a palm-sized black spot on her body.

She looked down at the layers of swimming floats on her body and swore to exercise and lose weight.

She had just lifted her leg when she collapsed to the ground. This time, she was prepared to go on a diet and lose weight.

When she heard the earth-shattering rumbles from her stomach, she held herself back.

She had not eaten for three days, but she realized that she had only lost one tael.

She instantly broke down. Sensing that something was wrong, she checked and realized that she had been poisoned.

As a descendant of a family that practiced traditional Chinese medicine, this was a small matter.

With acupuncture techniques in her hands, why would she be afraid of a little poison?

Before she could succeed in losing weight, the scumbag canceled their engagement and her stepsister came to provoke her.

‘It’s fine. Staying calm is more important. What? Does he dare to call me an ugly pig, a fat woman, a fatty? This is intolerable!’ With her acupuncture skills, she was able to detoxify the poison and become beautiful.

Using her competence, she managed to face-slap everyone and lose weight while torturing scum.

After accidentally rescuing a chronically ill uncle, he turned out to be her scumbag ex-fiance’s uncle.

She smiled maliciously and said, “Uncle, you should give yourself to me in return for rescuing your life!” When she saw the scumbag again, she said warmly, “My good nephew, call me Auntie.”

Persona:

Song Jiaren: Vengeful for the smallest grievance, naughty, and cheeky.

Yan Cheng: Two-faced, strong, patient, and cunning.

“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.

“Are you my knight?” The silver-haired youth looked at the blonde girl before him and asked, his cheeks flushed red. This was their first encounter when he was only ten years of age.

“Are you my bride?” He held her in his arms, embraced the girl who had accompanied him for ten years straight. He was sixteen years of age.

“Are you my king?” He knelt before the throne, smiling foolishly as he looked at the girl holding the sword victoriously. At this moment, he looked like the boy he was when they first met.

“I’m fine without having eyes for you. The entirety of Camelot is for your taking.” Smiling soft and gently, he gave his eyes to the girl who lost her eyes due to the curse of the red dragon. He doesn’t regret it, he thinks. He was twenty years of age.

“So… Arthur… Artoria Pendragon, are you willing… are you willing to spend the rest of your life with me?” His voice was soft and clear as he reached out to touch her hand.

This was their legend.

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