MTL - I, Dimension Breaker, Join the Chat Group - Chapter 676

The beautiful Blue Star tragically fell victim to an invasion by enemies from the Otherworld. The globe was left riddled with wounds, but it also presented an opportunity for the Awakening of the Blue Star people—a chance to choose something other than hot weapons. Individuals could use their own strength to slay enemies, amass wealth, and reach the pinnacle of their lives.Ye Nai was lucky enough to awaken in advance, releasing energy spores that could decompose organic matter. He had planned to make a stunning debut during the mass Awakening at school, but results showed he hadn't awakened?!What the hell?I haven't awakened?Then what's this Fungal Mycelium I have that can decompose abnormal creatures?Ye Nai gave a devilish smile.Haha, everything that happens is to my advantage. Whether it's the enemy or abnormal creatures, obediently fall into my hands and become nourishment for my mycelium!

Xiang Ye, who was working overtime and died suddenly, woke up and found that he had turned into an acre of land.

Just when he was at a loss, several big men carried a female corpse and buried it under him.

The accidental corpse dumping case made him uneasy, but then something even more shocking happened. The female corpse buried deep in the ground came to life on a certain moon hiding in the clouds at night…

“I don’t want to be a paradise, I want to be the most ferocious and most evil in this world.”

PS: It is probably the story of an acre of wasteland becoming a fine.

- Description from novelbuddy

MAIN CHARACTER GET TRANSFERED TO ANOTHER WORLD WHERE HE USE TO INCREASE CULTIVATION OF HIS WORLD

“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.