MTL - I Own a Garden with One Hundred Herbs - v100 Chapter 385 Dance and music break my head, I will accompany you

He was the youngest guru of martial arts as well as the perfect Mr. McDreamy of the most girls. He had mysterious absolute touch, clear-sighted observation ability and various outstanding talents.

She married a driver she just met. However, the last thing that had ever come to her expectation was that her bridegroom was no other than the most mysterious billionaire in the city. This marriage brought her baby twins. Thus, she worked harder to support this family. She was the queen of the entertainment circle. When she met the king who dominated the business world, she finally knew her husband’s true identity.

[Warning : Mature content R-18]*Premium quality lemons*Excellent waifu with genuine and diverse characters.*Milfs in equal abundance.*Harem members all equally important to the story!*****************************In a world ravaged by the XY Plague, a relentless genetic virus targeting the Y chromosome and crippling male fertility, Zafron, an 18-year-old orphan, faces a grim fate. Sold by his manipulative stepmother to a powerful noblewoman known for her wealth and influence, Zafron's life takes a sudden and dangerous turn.Lady Matilda, determined to secure a future for her noble house amidst the dwindling male population, discovers an astonishing truth about Zafron through rigorous genetic testing that changes everything.Disposed and discarded to his own means, Zaphron falls into a fatal encounter. Now at the point of death, pitied by a diety, Zafron is granted a system but not just any system. Zaphron is gifted the Eros vitality system!Now with his system, he emerges as the most genetically potent male known to exist in his world. But of course, this comes with a price.—Zafron now becomes a target not only for ambitious and desperate noble mistresses but also for men desperate to restore their own fertility, he must navigate a perilous path where trust is scarce and danger lurks at every turn.-------------------[Lady Seraphina, prime minister of Talkyo wants your seed][Princess Cordelia von Aldenberg would like a night with you][The prime minister of Winchester, her excellency is offering her daughter to you].....“I never asked for this burden, but I will carry it. My potency is not just a gift—it's a responsibility to safeguard the future of our kind. So to all the women that I love, believe me when I say that my precious seed will be yours if you give me one thing...”

“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.