MTL - Forced Marriage VIP Front-Seat: My Superstar Ex-wife is very Popular - Chapter 453 He has two relationships

After transmigrating into a weak noble body, Marvin discovered that he was familiar with the world, this was the game he played in his previous life and… Damn! He only had six months before the Great Calamity!

David thought he would live a normal life when he awakened the banking system at the age of 18.However, fate seemed to have something else in store for him as his life turned upside down when following the death of one of his loyal client, a shiny window popped up in front of him.[Regretfully! You lost one of your clients today. However, the Bank of Eternal Origin can never suffer a loss.Even if he died, the client will have to pay back somehow, therefore his soul was captured. You now have the following options, keep in mind that you can only choose one.1 - Extract Client's Crystallion of Life (Money Talks, Grade - Uncommon)2 - Extract Bryan's memories from his birth till his death.3 - Any item that client owned in his lifetime.4- Do Nothing, let the compound interest do its thing and decide again when the Client dies in his next life.Please note as capturing the soul and imprisoning it requires a large amount of mana because of which you only have two hours left to make a choice.]

Bai Ye traveled to a very strange world where food is the sky and became a chef. He thought it would still be an ordinary life, but he slowly discovered how strange things always came in in this world.

What the hell is a gourmet cell?

What happened to Totsuki Academy?

Are the legendary kitchen utensils true or false?

Even the Sword Art Online Food Hunter version has come out, what kind of trouble do you want to make…

Although I feel that few people read it, I still set up a book friend group, welcome to join the home cook, group number: 553438462

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.