Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World - Chapter 270:

[Universal Invincible super first favorite text, face slap, scumbag, double strong! 】

Abandoned by her parents since childhood, Song Hua, who grew up in the countryside, was suddenly taken home by wealthy parents one day.

Her father told her: “You and your sister are not from the same world. Her future is limitless. She is a phoenix soaring nine days. Of course you can’t marry a disabled person! It’s cheaper for you!”

The mother warned: “The Yu family has a great career, and being able to marry your sister in place of your sister is a blessing that you have cultivated in eight lifetimes! Don’t know what’s wrong!”

Yu Tingzhi, a genius who is famous in Jiangcheng.

After a car accident, the genius Yu Tingzhi not only lost his legs, but also lost his talent.

One is a little village girl from the countryside;

One is a well-known waste;

These two people are a perfect match.

For a time, everyone was waiting to see the joke of Miss Song family.

..

One day, the little village girl and the trash in the eyes of everyone appeared at the same time at a reception where big bosses gathered.

Song Hua said:

“I’m here to carry the dishes as a part-time job.”

The latter is unhurried:

“It’s a coincidence, I’m also here to do a part-time job.”

As a result, everyone witnessed the two big bosses serving a night’s plate at the reception in order to conceal their identities.

..

On the wedding day, the big bosses in the capital gathered.

Big Brother No. 1: “The third master is getting married, I’ll wait to make way for the third master!”

Big Brother No. 2: “Welcome Miss Song back to Beijing!”

Big Brother No. 3: “…”

Big Brother No. 4: “…”

Looking at these big guys who can only be seen in the news column on weekdays, the Song family was stupid, and Song Baoyi cried and said that he regretted it.

- Description from novelbuddy

[Warning: MATURE/R-18 Content]Noah Ashford, the son of the village chief.And also, he was a reincarnator, who accidentally died by an unexpected event.Since childhood, he was always considered smart by his friends.Unfortunately, his talent was too low, leaving him far behind.Due to his low talent, he was always the object of ridicule, always talked about by the villagers.Luckily, one day when he was almost killed by a monster, something strange happened to him.He got a system, called talent increased.***Others tags:Adventure, Weak to Strong, Strong to Stronger, Killed, Level Up, Revenge, Hated Protagonist, Academy, Netori, No incest, Princess, Priest, Hero, Knight, Dragons, Demons, Magic Mana, Divinity, Skills, Rewards, Potions, Training, Hard Training, Body Enchament, Spirits, Elves, Dwarfs, Necromancer, Beast Taiming, Beats, Dryads, World Tree, Contract Spirits, Divinity, Holy Magic, Saints, Commander, Milf, Kings, Continent, Imperials, Nobles, Kingdoms, Tournament, Rivals, Emperors, Prince, Princess, Resistance, Conflict, War, Power Level System, Longevity, Cold ProtagonistSlice of Life: WPC JUNE 2024

“Great Saint, why did you follow that thieving baldy to rob the sacred mountain?” “Ah, it’s a long story. Back then, that thieving baldy grabbed my neck and asked me, ‘Are you coming with me to the Western Heaven, or should I send you to the Western Heaven...’” “What about you, Marshal Tianpeng?” “He said he was afraid of getting hungry on the way to the West, so he brought some dry rations along.” “...” This is a story filled with joy, scheming, and relentless teasing all the way through.

“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.