MTL - The Vicious Widow Widow Dressed As the Male Lead of Farming Fields - Chapter 967 You really don't know me?

In a world where magic was abundant and supernatural creatures existed, Jin Valter lived as a fallen genius. Being the son of two A-Ranked Hunters, Jin had inherited his father’s keen eye for martial arts and his mother’s innate talent for magic. Alas, before Jin could reach his full potential, an Outer Demon attack left his soul crippled and his body weakened beyond repair.

Now, Jin lives out his days bound to the hospital bed with nothing but his brains to keep him company. Gone were the days when his peers hailed him as a genius as he struggled to even conjure a spell with his body falling apart.

However, it would all change when on the Night of the Blood Moon, a unique visitor paid him a visit…

Once a young business prodigy, Violetta’s company crumbled fast thanks to internal corruption and the greed of the more successful elites.Now, she’s a certified 31 year old dirt-poor shut-in, living her best (or worst?) life as a full-fledged otaku.With nothing but her anime merch and a shaky Wi-Fi connection, she scrapes by on streaming money, all while dodging the harsh reality outside her door.However, after an all-nighter to play Merlysian Realm, a newly released VR MMORPG, she died from her unhealthy lifestyle and passed out.[SYSTEM ERROR: 404 - ACCOUNT NOT FOUND][Rebooting...][Loading...[ERROR: SYSTEM MALFUNCTION. PLEASE WAIT.].....[SYSTEM MESSAGE][You Have Received A Legendary Class][User's account balance has been updated.][Balance: UNLIMITED][Class: Merchant][Rank: SSS]“Huh?!”Not only was she transmigrated into Merlysian Realms, she was reborn in a struggling farmer's family that lived in poverty from a poorly developed kingdom in medieval times!The real kicker? It’s crawling with corrupt nobles, dying crops, zero trade routes, and is so tiny it could probably fit on a map as a dot labeled “Who Knows Where.”Can our otaku-turned-financial wizard save this sinking ship of a kingdom, or is she doomed to relive her bankrupt nightmares?Watch as she proves those who doubted her to be wrong and be accepted as a genius by using her knowledge from the modern world!

[Can the devil’s music bring happiness to the world?]From Jimmy Hendrix to Rachmaninoff, all the historical musicians who he meets in his dreams.The devil that presents itself as a little boy in love with singing.The devil’s blessing, given to such a tiny child.In the blessings of many devils,The boy’s song for the world begins.

“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.