MTL - The Strongest System - Chapter 1067 嗑 磕 磕 addicted (second more)

With an F-rank Trait, deemed the worst of the worst, 5-year old Shin Yu-sung is abandoned by the Shin-oh family, which is famous for raising hunters.The same year, he meets one of the strongest hunters, the Fist King, at the orphanage and is adopted by him.The Fist King became the strongest not through his Trait or special abilities — but by training his body.He takes note of Shin Yu-sung’s physique instead of his Trait—Nine blocked yin pathways.“Your blocked pathways cause your body’s mana to overflow, giving you an exceptional mind and god-like looks! But you also pass away before coming of age…”An abundance of bodily yang.“Your body is overflowing with the energy that can cure your nine blocked yin pathways!”

[ADULT CONTENT WARNING: Explicit intimacy and mature relationship themes. 18+ only.]Seven years together. Two years married.To the world, Alexander Montclair is the perfect husband gentle, patient, and calm. A man who never raises his voice and believes love should be quiet and understanding.But behind closed doors, his silence speaks louder than anger.In our marriage, his family comes before everything. His mother’s wishes dictate our lives, while my own needs are expected to wait. Every compromise, every apology, every sacrifice, it’s always me who gives in.The only time I feel chosen is in our intimacy moment, when desire briefly drowns out duty and that's when he listens to me instead of his family’s voice.But sex moments can’t hold a marriage together.This is not a story about cruelty or violence.It’s about emotional neglect, quiet obedience, and the slow ache of realizing that love without choice will eventually break you.After seven years of loving him, I must decide: Remain the husband who is always second or finally choose myself.

“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.

Raziel died a saint, slaughtered in his own cathedral the moment a Player fell from the sky, labeled his world a “Server,” and reduced him to nothing more than a prologue NPC.His final act of faith didn’t stop the massacre... but it did shatter the rules of the Game.[ITEM USED: RESURRECTION TOKEN][INITIATING REGRESSION PROTOCOL…][SAVE POINT FOUND: 4 YEARS BEFORE THE PLAYER ARRIVAL]Raziel wakes up in his fifteen-year-old body, memories fragmented, but with one absolute certainty: the Game Over is inevitable.To the Church, he remains the perfect novice; to the Player, he is just another NPC.But this time, he will wield his faith like a heretical System: recruiting the future sacrificial lambs, twisting miracles into weapons, and becoming the Hidden Boss of the very world that once discarded him.If this world sees him as mere filler... Raziel will turn his faith into the heresy that crashes the Server.