MTL - Supreme Martial Dao - Chapter 285 Touching people

All I ever wanted was for famous detectives like Sherlock Holmes or Arsène Lupin to appear in my dreams and share their wisdom. But instead, why am I hearing the voices of notorious serial killers in my head, guiding me to solve a string of mysterious cases?

Su Li, an ordinary person who lived for 30 years, surviving on social welfare as a laid-back slacker.Occasional pointless complaining and self-defeating philosophical platitudes didn’t bring any meaning to his 30 years.Until he was transported to another world…Su Li, who had no elemental talent, Su Li, who was labeled as useless, lived an unremarkable life.One day, Su Li picked up a person in distress and told them: “The reason you think light is important is only because darkness pervades the world. When light fills the world, darkness will become important.”The Son of Light Saint who was betrayed by the Bishop of Light— He’s right!He is the sage who guides people forward, the signpost standing before the people, my faith, my everything!He is not a god, yet he far transcends gods.Su Li saved an injured mute bird. As birds sang outside the window, he told the bird: “The reason people like things that make beautiful sounds is only because they happen to understand that sound. Because of ignorance, there is no sin.”The Level 9 demon beast Raven, severely injured by the Mercenary Association:— All people are ignorant and foolish, thinking that ravens represent evil, even labeling me as a natural disaster. I hate humans the most, but he is the exception.If the world is what he wants, I too will aspire towards it.Su Li told his young friend who wanted to go to the big city to strive for success: “Moving upward is human instinct. If one day you fall due to reality, please don’t hate yourself.”The friend who eventually amassed enough gold coins to fill a city:I once thought that a child from a remote countryside would never understand everything I pursued. However, heaven blessed me, allowing me to witness true great wisdom…

A series of short stories in the world of Toaru Majutsu no Index organized into chapters featuring Kanzaki Kaori as the protagonist, going around the world and space doing missions for the Church of Necessary Evil, however, there is more than meets the eye as each incident is connected.

One chapter was bundled with each limited edition release of the Toaru Kagaku no Railgun anime DVD and BDs, with all of them together being equivalent to a single normal Toaru Majutsu no Index volume

“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.