Favorite of the Beast-world: I Got Rich Through Farming - Chapter 342 - 225: Difficulty + Shipbuilding

[Congratulations, you have unlocked the SSS-Rank Job: The Shutter Summoner.]—Jaden Cross, a young man who earns his living by completing photography challenges given to him by his social media followers, was on his way to complete his new challenge for today.His challenge? To capture a picture of a smoking hot MILF, however, as he tried to complete his challenge, some 'unexpected' events led to the end of his life.But fate decided that his end was still not here, as he woke up in a wide grassland with his camera in his hand.His first thought was to take a picture, and as he did so, a chime rang and a blue screen appeared before him.[Binding Host with the Summoner Codex.]His camera captures anything, and his grimoire keeps all of it stored for him, allowing him to summon anything anytime and anywhere.Follow him as he captures World-Ending Calamities and places that even Gods were wary of to uncover the mysteries behind his transmigration.[Congratulations, you have captured the SSS-Rank Fairy Queen.][Congratulations, you have captured the Banished Site - Tower of Crimson.][Congratulations, you have captured the SSS-Rank Witch of Possibility.]

[According to gossip, actor Shen Liangchuan will arrive at the airport at nine o’clock this morning. The itinerary has not been announced to the public. It is reported that it is very likely that when I return home this time…

- Description from novelbuddy

Li Jing passed through, into a modern world where all the people cultivated immortals.

Everything here has to rely on the aura of self-cultivation to motivate.

With no relatives, no money in his pocket, and no understanding of how to practice, life is struggling.

Until Li Jing walked into a chicken shop and found that he could see the blood bars of the chickens…

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- Description from novelbuddy

“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.