This Ninja Is Obviously Not Strong but Really Hard to Kill - Chapter 371: Sneak Attack to Strong Attack!

"When will people understand.... I'm only half insane?"

The fake daughter was spoiled by her elder brother and parents, but she, the real daughter, was disgusted to death and scolded as trash, she endured it… But what happened this time? After the rebirth cycle, the eldest brother who hated her the most hugged her and said that he loves her. Is she his only sister? Several other elder brothers sent the most expensive gifts one after another, just begging her to take a second look? This plot is not right?

Brothers:

“Yanyan, do you eat candy? Big Brother bought it for you all over the country and put it in a candy house.”

“Yanyan, do you like this house? The second brother bought dozens of houses for you.”

“Yanyan, the third brother of the playground has been transferred to your name.”

“Yanyan, my brother will take you to debut at C position.”

Gu Yan: “…” (Help! She really wants to do the task in a low-key manner!)

- Description from novelbuddy

This is a great era belonging to the giant ship galaxy. The multiverse is shattered, and endless fragments of space and land are scattered in the void, turning into an endless sea of ​​broken stars.

Immortal Taoist soldiers, mechanical gods, golden giants, wizard masters…

Countless strange civilizations.

Star sea strange objects, genetic medicine, exogenous armor, floating land origin…

Rare treasures can be found everywhere.

Nether energy shuttle, Nether energy airship, Nether energy airship, frigate, battleship, Star Destroyer, superdimensional mothership…

A fireship with distinct layers.

Across the sea of ​​​​stars, we start from the fire of human civilization.

- 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.