MTL - Almighty Summoner - v2 Chapter 419 A **** case caused by a horn

This story is centered around the man named Yi Ji-Hyuk, who has spent 1000 years in a Medieval Western fantasy-like world before returning back to the modern-day Earth. When he returns, he finds that his home is facing monster threats, and that humans with superpowers have appeared to protect the innocent people of Earth.

In a person’s life, three percent depends on hard work, seven percent depends on talent, and ninety percent depends on appearance.

Ding Mu, originally an ordinary person with a little handsome, a little money, and a little smart, could only live an ordinary life with a little luxury and a little glory.

By chance, Ding Mu wanted to download Meitu Xiuxiu, but got a real-life beautification system of aliens.

- Description from novelbuddy

“I suddenly discovered that this world is dangerous today.” Bai Zhi looked grave as he typed out a line of text on his computer.

“When I went out today, I came across some poor guy getting bitten by another person. Luckily, a few brave guys rushed out to bring the criminal to justice, but when the person who was bitten struggled to stand up, he was immediately beaten to the ground by one of those who had supposedly saved him—and then, they called the police! I’ve watched more than enough modern movies to know what happened. The zombie was taken out before the virus could spread.”

“Last time, you told us about a few guys saving humanity from an alien invasion… This time, it’s a zombie outbreak?”

There was an exasperated response from the chat box.

“So how was that dangerous?”

“There are also several girls who are fighting tooth and nail for a piece of me! It’s totally Hell in here, don’t you think it’s dangerous!?”

“???”

“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.