MTL - Strongest Abandoned Son - v17 Chapter 2249 Human condensate

A world where taming monsters is the mainstream to survive. Cloud, an orphan from the slums, suddenly recovered his memories of a previous life. A man living on modern Earth, and an avid fan of sexy monster girls.

Running away from the constraints of his current life and starting anew, he decided to throw away his name and live as just “Will”.

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Rajesh Kusapari hopes to find a lifelong partner; Xie Yongqiang hopes to be with Wang Xiaomeng for a lifetime; Ji Xiaolan does not want to disappoint Du Xiaoyue’s love; Yuan Hua does not want to hand over Qiuya to others…

Awaken the system, travel through the world, and save the bachelors of the heavens!

I am Xiang Nan, I am working hard!

- Description from novelbuddy

She is the supreme ruler of Godland, but she was reborn as a domineering president disguised as a man.

The family business has internal and external troubles, and the fiancée still loves her in public.

Oh, I’m sorry, but I actually came to divorce the engagement. Ling Qianjin’s head is too big, her chest is too flat, her waist is too thick, and her legs are too short, so she is not good enough for me.

Then, she heard the rival in love who is also the domineering president say to her fiancee: “I think you are not as good-looking as that President Xiao just now.”

She turned her head and met those dark purple eyes.

Being a domineering president VS a domineering president…

Rich, powerful and beautiful, Rong Ye walked more and more smoothly on the broad road that bends himself every day. He felt that his love was great, and he finally crossed the boundaries of gender.

However……

Mr. Xiao: “I’m sorry, Master Rong, I think our genders don’t match.”

(Reader Group ①: 232886807; Reader Group ②: 820600380, which one can enter)

- 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.