MTL - Face Slapping The Slag Gong System - Chapter 236 Back to reality

In this dawn age, we wake up.

Will use countless pairs of eyes to study our home world, and the surrounding environment, we walk as one, build shelters for the bee colony, develop industry, research new technologies, and make use of various resources on the earth.

Soon, we will be all over the world.

A small number of autonomous bee colonies were created, and were added to the colony as independent individuals.

These more powerful swarms have limited free will, but they still obey the highest will incomparably, just like other tool swarms.

As we completely dominate the planets, the will begins to pay attention to those worlds orbiting in other orbits. The smartest autonomous bee swarms have designed new ways of travel, giving us the ability to cross the long distances between planets.

Our swarm will soon become more prosperous.

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Ten years after her parents’ divorce, the grandmother who raised Chu Tingwu passed away, leaving her to be shuttled back and forth between relatives.At this moment, an entity claiming to be a “Cub Rearing System” suddenly appeared, wanting to bind itself to her and cultivate her into an outstanding graduate of its program.Just as Chu Tingwu was about to refuse, she saw her personal attributes on the system interface—[Name: Chu Tingwu][Species: Cat]Chu Tingwu: Something’s not right here…Due to a bug, the system had identified her as a kitten.Her stats were those of a cat, but her appearance remained human.How should an exemplary human-cat be raised? Sleeping, causing mischief, eating until she became as round as a pig?However, the reality turned out to be quite different: extreme sports, expert bird-catcher, master mouse-hunter, catching invasive fish barehanded with dynamic vision, using camouflage and tracking skills to film documentaries of rare birds, nearly making the social news as a suspected retired special police officer.For the first lesson in cultivation, the system said gravely:“A cub cannot live alone. We need to find you a cat mother… I’ve already detected a suitable candidate nearby. Go to the target location quickly, little one, and let the cat mother adopt you.”Chu Tingwu looked up as an advertisement fluttered into her hand:[Sunshine Pet Hospital: Limited-time half-price pet neutering, one month of free food with every pet adoption]Chu Tingwu: Who exactly is adopting whom here?

I found myself in a parallel universe, awakening as a male priest. Everything seemed perfect; after all, as a healer, specializing in aiding women should pose no issue, right? However, I couldn’t help but wonder about some peculiar spells in my repertoire.

Firstly, what in the world is the “Instantaneous Outbreak of Acute Gastroenteritis” spell? And don’t even get me started on the “Osteoporosis” spell. What purpose could these serve in my healing endeavors? The confusion only deepened with spells like “Blood Burn,” “Gradual Freeze,” and “Mental Chaos.” Can I still peacefully focus on healing women with such ominous abilities?

Comparing my spells to those of other professions, I couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast. Mages wield “Doomstorm” and “Ice Age,” swordsmen boast “Sword Rain: Homecoming” and “Wind-Cutter Slash,” while archers showcase “Arrow Rain: Shooting Stars” and “Storm Arrow.” Yet, my ultimate spells are disturbingly named “Cancer Cell Proliferation,” “T-Virus Infection,” and “Rabies Outbreak.”

In the midst of it all, a certain character, some crying girl, laments, “Noooo, I just took a bath, who would have thought that I would become infected!”

Meanwhile, a villain chillingly asks, “Do any of you know what it feels like to burst apart while spouting blood? No! You don’t know!”

Even a boss character confesses, “Dear family, who can understand? I just took a nap, and when I woke up, I suddenly found that I have no kidneys!”

“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.