MTL - Power and Wealth - Chapter 2030 【season finale】

A world where one’s life was decided by one’s talent called Gift.
The main character Erio Scarlet who was born in the house of influential noble family that had produced a lot of Holy Knights manifested a suspicious gift Incubus in the conferment ceremony. Furthermore the skill attached to that Gift was only one embarrassing skill called Peerless.

Erio was banished from the city because there was no way his indecent existence could be permitted in a family of Holy Knights but……somehow he went through an amazing growth when he dealt with his horniness though!?

In addition when his childhood friend who was bestowed with the Gift Sacred Knight chased after the main character because of her love for him reverse ra-……did it with him, a lot of powerful indecent skills showed up and on top of that they even got bound by Master-Servant contract……!?

This was the indecent heroic tale of the boy who was gifted with indecent Gift rising in the world while [getting along] with a lot of girls.

Li Xu occasionally got a sign-in system, and his life has been different from now on. Enjoy life, look at the scenery, sign in, spring flowers bloom, and face the sea.

- Description from novelbuddy

At 3 years of age, her father went missing. At 15, the muscle in her hand snapped. At 16, her mother passed away in a car accident. At 19, she was framed by her uncle. At 22, she was burned alive by her newly- wedded husband and her best friend. Perhaps it was God’s sympathy that allowed her to return to the time when she was 15 years old to re-live once more. The previous lifetime of being low- key and having forbearance resulted in betrayal and misery. In this lifetime, she must be lofty and domineering to let those who have bullied her suffer a terrible end!

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.