MTL - C-class Hybrids Forced To Slay Dragons - v5 Chapter 28 voyage

After his father was murdered and his peaceful village massacred, Sol woke up to find a mysterious old man standing over him claiming to be his new Master.

“You want revenge, don’t you? I’ll train you so you have the strength to take it, but you have to become my one and only disciple first!”

Sol’s peaceful village life training with his father ended for his journey of revenge and hatred to begin. However, on this journey, he would meet people who slowly changed him; who would go on to become his friends and loved ones.

Sol’s desire for revenge faded to be replaced by something else, a desire much stronger than before.

“I no longer seek revenge. What I now seek is to create a world where no one has to experience pain and suffering. And the only way to do that… is to rule!”

However, there was a catch. Would the powerful hegemonies who rule the world and cause chaos with their conflicts allow this boy to usurp their long reign?

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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any events, places, or names are all from the author's imagination and Google. If someone in any way assumes this book to be real or based on real events, I strongly suggest you send me Golden Tickets for doing such a good job.

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Will, an aspiring director and a college student was busy dreaming about becoming a successful figure in Hollywood when he found himself on an alternate earth.

The world is almost the same, but wait... all the celebrities, brands, and even renowned works from his world are no more!?

Armed with the Hollywood System, Will Evans will rise to the very pinnacle of stardom.

MCU and DC? I will create them!

F.R.I.E.N.D.S and the Office? I will write them!

Harry Potter and the Lord Of The Rings? I will direct them!

In her seven years of marriage, she and her husband click perfectly well, sharing a loving and sweet relationship.

“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.