MTL - Super Brain Telekinesis - Chapter 295 Manufacturing super black technology sports car

She was the Eldest Legitimate Daughter of the General's Mansion, treacherously harmed and died a miserable death. Perhaps moved by pity, heaven granted her rebirth. She returned to four years earlier, not only possessing heterochromia that allowed her to see what others couldn't but also equipped with a portable space. She vowed to make those who hurt her and her mother pay in this life.He was a Prince with a Different Surname from Moli Country, holding military power and commanding awe in all directions. It was said that he had conquered most of Moli Country, and even The Emperor showed him deference. Legend had it he was a bloodthirsty prince who killed without blinking an eye.One day, she encountered a ragged but handsome man on the street, who chased after her, shouting, “My wife, my wife.”The woman said, “Damn it, who is your wife? Aunt isn’t even engaged yet! Go where it’s cool and stay there.”The man responded, “You are my wife, and I've decided to follow you for life.”“A feel-good story, both leads are strong, a pampering love story with 1v1 romance.”

Enemy of the world, cursed by all, Kim Sungchul goes on a quest to prevent the ‘prophecy of the end’ from coming to pass.

But no matter how much he raised his strength, there were still some things he could not achieve with physical strength alone.

Resolving to obtain the power of magic, he goes into hiding to learn magic from his most hated of enemies, The Mages.

-- WSA 2025 Entry --“Five… Four… Three… Two… One…”As the countdown towards the new year went on to the last second, Miles looked up to the sky, just as everybody else did.In the middle of the crowded street, Miles for once felt like he belonged. Being a teenage gamer, living with his parents, and trying to build a life as a streamer, he did not feel like leaving his room every day.But there, in the middle of that crowded street, with everyone around him paying attention to the sky, the countdown on the digital billboard, and mostly anything else but him., Miles felt like a ghost.A welcomed ghost, but a ghost, after all.With a smile on his unseen face, he looked up as the countdown reached one, and everybody sang in unison.‘HAPPY NEW YEAR!”But Miles’ eyes widened as he watched in utter horror, and curiosity, even, hovering above him, a holographic screen with a few lines of text written in it.All around him, although he did not pay much attention to it, a few other people seemed to experience the same situation.[Updating home-world 39515’s version][Version 20.25 update brings a lot of fun and games with the new and improved survival mode][Do you want to convert your previous avatar to home-world 39515’s latest version?][Yes] [No]“Survival… Mode?” Miles’ lips quivered.Before he could think of anything else, though, the people around him began to scream…

“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.