Reborn : Space Intelligent Woman - Chapter 107: New Purpose

Tenjou Yuuya has been a bullied boy since the past.He lives in the home of his beloved grandfather while he goes to school. As usual, he receives a harsh bullying, and he takes an extended absence from school to have some time to heal his wounds.While on this long time of absence, he takes the opportunity to clean his grandfather’s house and goes to a room he never went before, where his grandfather keep many different objects that he gathered from his travels around the world. While he was arranging the objects, he found a door not on a wall among the objects.Out of curiosity he opens this door, what he found on the other side was…

In this world, being a farmer is a noble profession.

To obtain the Zhang Xiaofan super ability, have no matter all sorts of grass, raise flower, you ‘ll became one big guy unconsciously.

At a dying grass, give it 60 points of life, and will live.

Villain holding a 100 years of Lingcao in front of Zhang Xiaofan show off in an ostentatious manner, conveniently give it a year. As a result of the tragedy, it degenerates into a ten rank grass, the villain be crying faint in the toilet.

- Description from Novelupdates

Finn travels to the timeline after Avengers: Endgame and obtains a system that hides one's own strength while allowing him to grow even stronger!However, he soon discovers that the system's prescribed hiding place is actually Westview!Before long, Wanda will seize control of the entire town, plunging countless people into pain and torment.Fearing exposure and determined not to give up halfway...Finn decides to act first—conquer Wanda and resolve the issue at its root.And thus, he embarks on a road of no return.Here's the cliched NOTE : English is my 3rd language so I'm not proficient in that , so if there are any mistakes please point it out to me

“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.