MTL - Nightmare’s Call (Summoner of Nightmares) - Chapter 724 Origin 3

Izan, a Spanish-Japanese boy who lived with his mother and sister in the heart of Valencia played for the Valencia academy since he could remember.As life fucks as all, Izan found himself being laid off by his club for being talentless.Frustrated, Izan runs around his local pitch, trying to get the news off his mind.As fate would have it, Izan gets struck by lightning which gives him a system.Izan with the system embarks on a journey to becoming 'THE' god of football.We all know he can and probably will but how does he get there?

Stranded in a world not his own, in a body not his own, Kaden finds himself stuck as a low rank marine in treacherous waters in the middle of an ocean where only the strongest can survive and a count down until a war that would shake the oceans and the very world itself erupts, where the kings of the sea will devour the chum. Gamer System. Insert.

Haruto Hayase was a normal high school boy in his third year, living a quiet life until his younger sister, Haruka Hayase, joined the same school. Haruka’s beauty and charm made her the center of attention, quickly becoming the school’s prima donna. But when a notorious gang leader set his sights on her, he did everything in his power to protect her—only to fail tragically. Haruka was brutally assaulted and tortured, and Haruto himself suffered an agonizing death. However, in a twist of fate, Haruto is given a second chance, waking up a year before the events that shattered his life. Armed with the mysterious ‘Debauchery System Slave’, he vows to exact revenge on those responsible. This time, he will use his newfound powers of the system and charm to seduce the loved ones of his enemies. From their mothers, sisters, and lovers to their closest friends, Haruto will make them his. His enemies will suffer as he steals what they hold dearest, ensuring their downfall in the most devastating way possible.

“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.