Reincarnated Into A Dead Woman's Body In Another World - Chapter 56: Arc 2, - 34: The Mirror

In a future timeline...

The entire world underwent a heaven-defying change as planet Earth was forcefully shifted away from the Milky Way Galaxy to another Galaxy by some unknown forces.

A New Galaxy completely out of their wildest imagination.

A new type of cosmic energy known as Mana invaded Earth, transforming its very essence as the world witnessed its regular norm shattered into pieces.

The cosmic energy entered into the human body as it forcefully awakened new genes in them which were once thought to be a myth.

The world's rules were forcefully changed as it became a place where only getting stronger mattered and only those with the most powerful genes were worthy of respect.

The strength of humanity grew and so did their curiousness making them emerge out of Earth and explore the new universe but they were shocked by what they saw.

Powerful alien races who were far beyond them in technology and comprehension of Mana, world-devouring existence, unexplored worlds, and cosmos.

This Universe was simply boundless and the word “impossible” does not exist.

The story follows a young man named Zeras Celestria, a descendant of one of the Nine Families who was deemed trash and sold out to a dark force that uses humans for experiments, due to his inability to awaken the Celestria family's powerful A-grade Lightning Hammer Gene, and instead awakened the trashy F-grade Multi-colored hair gene.

Thrown into a pile of dead bodies who were deemed experimental failures and life slowly seeped away from him.

Zeras clenched his teeth tightly as a mad taste for revenge flickered in the depth of his eyes, but also with a tint of helplessness.

That was until...

“Congratulations.”

“Host has been blessed by Chaos.”

“Host has successfully awakened SSS-grade Chaos Devouring Gene.”

Armed with an SSS-grade Gene and an undying will for revenge.

Zeras embarked on a path to becoming the strongest and dominating the limitless universe.

A path many embarked on but none ever succeeded.

-- -- --

A Future Scene...

“Look Into My Eyes, What do you see...” A young man, with white hairs like the purest snow, pairs of lips redder than blood, and a face crafted by perfection itself.

Yet those eyes, no they couldn't be called so... They were instead unending black-hole of...

“I see Death, Madness, Pain, And...”

“Yes, I'm The Last Embodiment Of Chaos...”

……………………………………………………………

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With the Legendary Mechanic System, I transmigrated to Marvel Universe to be Dr. Zola’s assistant.

With Mechanical Force Analysis, I can learn every black technology.

Winter Soldier’s arm? I built a better one for you.

Iron Man’s armor? I already made it a decade earlier.

Doc Ock’s tentacles? I am the one who provided core technology.

Hulk’s mutation? Sorry, I was there and got hit by the radiation too.

As for a certain purple potato, can he collect all Infinity Stones?

……

However, I only had one simple ultimate dream. That is to go home…

- Description from Novelupdates

What is my 1000-year-old monster self to do when I’ve failed my immortal ascension? Time travel — accidentally — and wind up back in my 9-year-old body, needing to re-cultivate, of course. But after that? Get REVENGE! Muahahahaha! But the idiot who killed me — also accidentally — was the main character of the dumb harem Xianxia I transmigrated into. But wait. Wasn’t he only 7 or 8 at this point in time? Well, since I can’t harm a child or the main character without suffering in some way, then I’ll just have to raise him better, faster, stronger, and loyal! Muahahahaha!

“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.