MTL - The Married Wife is a Boss: Lord Mo is Super Fond of Him! - Chapter 26 the woman is back

After transmigrating into a weak noble body, Marvin discovered that he was familiar with the world, this was the game he played in his previous life and… Damn! He only had six months before the Great Calamity!

Chu Mu Yun relied on his story of 《Demon Realm》 to become a one-hit wonder in JJWXC, but the him who had written seven mental cases to abuse seven mental cases to death would never have expected that he himself would transmigrate into this shitty novel!
What the hell is this system on the bracelet?
And what the hell is this either propose to seven men, or suffer the taste of a tragic death experience under the hands of these seven people?
I just wanted to write a novel to satisfy my bad interests, who would actually want to get tangled up with a bunch of mad dog sad*st crazies?

- Description from Novelupdates

On the day he entered university, the navigation system on his phone started to have the function to automatically search for treasures.

Every time he found a treasure, he would be able to receive a lot of rewards.

“92kg of embezzled products detected. The reward for completing the treasure hunt: 100 million mansions by the Sky Lake.”

“The top celebrity, Xia Qiu, will run into danger soon. The reward for completing fate hunt: 100 million cash.”

“5kg gold detected. The reward for completing treasure hunt: 60% stock of Distant Publishing that’s worth 600 million.”

With the continuous treasure hunts automatically detected on his phone and obtaining the rewards from the hunts, Ye Feng said, “From today onwards, I’ll be the most pretentious bastard.”

“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.