MTL - 1980s Group-Pampering: Cannon-Fodder Real Young Lady Gets a Divorce and Becomes a Billionaire - Chapter 500 arrange work

An upsurge of emotion, infinite fantasy, the wind waving Melaleuca, undefeated young blood! After the rebirth of Nie Yun lucky to have the ability to change the number of dantian law formula, others with a dantian practice, you use ten, one hundred!

- Description from Uukanshu

Elijah unexpectedly travels back to the day when the virus broke out. Confronted with his zombified roommate and the perilous situation of the roommate's girlfriend, he decides to take action. In this post-apocalyptic world, he vows to become the strongest man and create an incredibly secure refuge.

The story begins with Elijah's rebirth as he discovers the opportunity to change the future. He becomes close companions with his roommate Bella and her husband Alexander. However, when Alexander is infected and turns into a zombie, Elijah must act decisively to protect himself and Bella.

Elijah awakens to a supernatural ability called the “Seed of Consciousness,” which allows him to control zombies, becoming his weapon for survival. He uses this power to strengthen himself continuously and seek the path of survival. However, his relationship with Bella starts to undergo subtle changes, forcing him to confront emotional challenges.

As the story unfolds, readers will immerse themselves in gripping plots and complex character relationships. Elijah's growth, struggles, and emotional development with numerous women in the post-apocalyptic world form the core of the story. It's a world full of challenges and opportunities, and Elijah's narrative is about continuous growth and overcoming oneself, showing readers the hardships of surviving in the apocalypse and the complexity of human nature.

The world ended, and from its ashes, a new society rose. One where strength was law, and the weak were nothing more than dust beneath the feet of the powerful.Malakai Von Sanguine was meant to be great, a direct descendant of one of the grand families of the dome, the Sanguine Clan. But at seven, he lost everything: his parents, his future, and his ability to evolve. Branded as worthless, his life became a living hell, forced to survive in a world where the unevolved were walking corpses.But fate wasn’t done with him yet.One fateful encounter changed everything.He evolved.What he acquired was something far beyond the limits of his clan, something most wouldn’t believe possible. A power that defied the very laws that governed their new society.Now, there is only one goal: revenge.The people who took everything from him… he will hunt them to the ends of the earth. He will burn their names from history and carve his vengeance into their very bones.No mercy. No forgiveness. No escape.They will die screaming.Or he will die trying.

“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.