MTL - Porter of Two Worlds - Chapter 1299 is it you?

Ryan «Quicksave» Romano is an eccentric adventurer with a strange power: he can create a save-point in time and redo his life whenever he dies. Arriving in New Rome, the glitzy capital of sin of a rebuilding Europe, he finds the city torn between mega-corporations, sponsored heroes, superpowered criminals, and true monsters. It’s a time of chaos, where potions can grant the power to rule the world and dangers lurk everywhere.

Earth's youth, Chen Jichuan, tragically dies in a car accident and is transmigrated into an Immortal Hero world, obtaining the Supreme Skill: [Dao Fruit].Everything starts from ‘Dao Fruit’...

In my previous life, I was half a move short and ultimately failed to reach the summit. Having traveled back to the past, this time... I want to become the strongest in this world! To become the strongest in this world, one only needs three simple steps: 1. Pick up a newly-transferred Demonic Sect Enchantress off the streets. 2. Subdue and vanquish the demon. 3. Take her cultivation technique for myself. Awesome! I’m already invincible! ———————— Years later, Yan Yu, who had earned the title of “the strongest,” was interviewed on television: Host: To whom do you want to give thanks for your success today? Yan Yu: I’d like to thank a very important woman to me. Host (eyes lighting up): Oh, is she your wise and virtuous wife? Yan Yu: No, consider her a stepping stone, I suppose. Host (wiping sweat): Then... what about the other members of your team? They must have helped you as well, right? Yan Yu: ... How could there possibly be only one stepping stone on the path to godhood?

“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.