Ex-Husband CEO, Stop Messing Around! - Chapter 33: The Young Master Returns

Once upon a time, an Alchemist Grandmaster from the World of Immortals accidentally took possession of a playboy, who hailed from a rich and powerful family, and became a student in the middle of his midterms.

By the means of a miraculous immortal technique, he blended in and mingled amongst the femme fatales’ group to dominate the city! The nature of this novel’s origin is shamelessness to the core; having no sense of shame is just a basic foundation, but if the most shameless isn’t set yet, then become it!

- Description from Novelupdates

The Hero Age— circa 3113 ad. An age where humans have developed superpowers such as superspeed, superstrength, and every cliche superhero power there is. But not everyone awakened superhero powers.

A tad 1% of the population were unawakened and Satoshi is one of them... or so he thought.

It all started when he wished for a System-like ability in front of a retro computer, which in turn granted it the power of the System. What Satoshi didn't know is that he holds the power to transform/evolve animals and inanimate objects.

How will Satoshi's life evolve after this newfound power? Will he finally be the very best like no one ever was?

“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.