MTL - My Beautiful Group of Girls - Chapter 526 Teacher, can you help you with your hands?

After suddenly dying while trying to meet a deadline, Gu Huai transmigrated and became a non-human race.

This race is cruel and cold, making them feared and shunned by everyone in the interstellar world.

As the new king of the race and facing the group of parents who see him as a baby, Gu Huai said he was under a lot of pressure.

- Description from Novelupdates

Waking up after a sound sleep, Xie Mingzhe reincarnated into the future world. Here a holographic trading card game is popular around the Galaxy, many professional card players and card designers coming to the fore.

Bai Zian traveled through the era of beast taming. His grandfather was one of the seven strongest people in the world. He had resources and connections, and was born to win at the starting line!Moreover, Bai Zian also awakened the legendary mythical talent [Eye of Revelation] , which can obtain the revelation of heaven and know everything in the world![Ding, you are studying the evolution method of white-scaled fish and obtaining the revelation of heaven!] .[The first evolution plan: After two evolutions, it evolves into a red-eyed silver-striped fish (gold level)] .[The second evolution plan: After three evolutions, it evolves into a red-eyed gold-striped fish (diamond level)] .[…….] .[The nth evolution plan: After nine evolutions, the fish becomes a whale, and the whale becomes a Kun, and evolves into the Nine-Heavens Kunpeng (God-level)] .How can I lose when I start with a Mythical Talent?!

“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.