MTL - Immortal Soul of Steel - Chapter 859 The role of white smoke

He once stained the rivers and mountains with blood, his brilliance unparalleled. Unexpectedly, he encountered a great calamity, a dragon trapped in shallow waters, everyone thought he was nothing more than a useless son-in-law. But how could Gold Scales belong to a mere pond? The returning king, under the name of Frenzied Son-in-Law, with the War God’s stature, swept across the Eight Desolations of the Four Realms, the world trembled beneath his feet!

【Simulation Victim List—Yamada Ryo, Takamatsu Tomori, Chihaya Anon, Gotoh Hitori, etc.—】Thanks for the invitation, ROB. I'm in Japan, currently simulating “J-Rocker girls.”Kazami Haru, who simply longed for a peaceful and beautiful life, somehow ended up with a romance simulator that had absolutely no reason to involve him.Chasing after the system rewards that promised a better life, Kazami Haru started the so-called “romance simulation” with a playful attitude.But a simulation is just a simulation, so why are all the targets suddenly grabbing knives and chasing after him for a real romance?!【MyGO!!!!! × Bocchi the Rock!】

I never asked to be a part of werewolf society - or this world.Every day that passes, the mating bond between my protector and I threatens to occur, once and for all. To consume me entirely... and lock my path with this world on the brink, even when I still think of home.⧖ ⧖ ⧖One minute I was Citra Lomdi - a Princess to a kingdom of silk and secrets in a whole other place. There, I was a *magnificent* Fox shifter... maneuvering in the gilded cage that was my life. The next thing I knew...I was trapped in the body of a she-werewolf being rejected by her mate. A man that wanted the original owner, Helene Duskpaw, to accept the rejection of the mate bond so badly that he'd be easily convinced to kill me. He did *almost* seem to be trying!But my problems didn't end there.An 'Apocalypse System' has chosen me and a countdown timer reminds me whenever I look that fate can be measured. That there might be a point to my arrival here.A fierce & brilliant CEO of a supernatural society tech empire has their sights on me, too. The Alpha of the Rimecoat Pack that is quite annoyingly... as sexy as she is powerful.This Kyrie Voss also seems to believe she is my fated mate. Silly wolf superstitions. Whether that is true or not, isn't really important!I'm caught in between a cold-snap future and a hot-love pursuit... but I am Citra Lomdi and I will not be tamed. Not by the wolf within me I share this body with, the rogues that see me unmarked, or the Alpha that can set my blood on fire with her amazing restraint.The only problem is:Helene was pregnant before she died. So now, I am too.

“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.