Forcing Me to Be Reborn?! - Chapter 167 - 142 Hu Yans Self-Portrait

CONTENT WARNING – JUICY LEMONS DETECTEDThis novel contains:System-triggered intimacySkill fusion via bondingSeduction-based class evolutionMILFs with buns, blades, and traumaEmotional tension that may result in citrus explosionsLemons served hot, spicy, and metaphorically satisfying.All content is Webnovel-safe, but your sanity might not be.Reader discretion (and hydration) advised.THE STORY:I got summoned to save a kingdom.But instead of the Holy Hero class, I got this:[SSS-Rank Class Assigned: MILF Hunter]Now every mature woman with curves and baggage looks at me like I’m the main quest.The Queen adopted me.A shrine spirit rode me.A widow pinned me until the system glitched.Every MILF I bond with unlocks a passive.Every one I please evolves my class.And now?[Threadweave Fusion Unlocked]I can fuse skills. Reforge reality.Break the system from the inside out.This isn’t just a harem.It’s a divine glitch with thighs, scars, and consequences.I’m not the hero they asked for.I’m the anomaly the gods want erased.If you’re into:Dominant queens and combat widowsBond-powered level-upsForbidden skill craftingCombat as foreplayCitrus-coded corruption arcsThen open this book.And bring a towel.[MILF Hunter System Online]Exposure: Rising…Watchers: Engaged…Lemon Protocol: Armed and dripping…Add to your Collection.Drop a Power Stone.Choose your MILF.Because the queens are thick.The class is cursed.And the system?It doesn’t believe in chill.

“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.

The Peng Society for Gentlemen — a secret friend-making club for the homosexual men of the Great Xia Dynasty. Its services were designed to help its members along in their quest for their lifelong partners. Upon paying a monthly fee of fifty coins, members could get themselves listed in The Pengornisseur after providing a self-portrait, a mailing address, their age and hobbies, as well as a self-introduction. All members would receive a copy of the monthly publication, and they could communicate with one another in private using the information in The Pengornisseur.

Wu Xingzi, a bachelor about to turn forty, worked as the adviser to the magistrate in Qingcheng County.

Qingcheng County was a place with barely any resources. In other words, it was poor. In the list of counties of the Great Xia Dynasty, it had been ranked at the bottom for the past two hundred years.

Wu Xingzi felt that his life was hopeless: not only was he a homosexual, he was also a virgin. Even his retirement fund was lacking. Worse still, his looks were… forgettable.

He might as well die.

Hence, Wu Xingzi decided to commit suicide on his fortieth birthday. However, he was unwilling to remain a virgin to death! And so, gritting his teeth, he joined the Peng Society for Gentlemen and received The Pengornisseur. It was very painful; after all, fifty coins were the sum of his daily expenditure for ten days! He would only pay it once, and he was determined to succeed on his first try.