Hyperion Evergrowing - Chapter 135: Precipice

To sum up in a sentence, *slag men **washing white daily, transmigrating to different worlds to wash white, and the goal is to become a good man!

Note:
*Slag men refer to men who play with women’s hearts aka scum.
**Washing white means to come clean, fix up your life.

- Description from Novelupdates

Transmigrate to the world of One Piece, reincarnate as Saint Imu; Control the world government and sit on the throne of the void.He obtains the star map of the omniverse and contemplates the sea of dimensions.Gather all individual combat power, military power, financial resources and all material resources to open the star gate, conquer all dimensions, and break the limit of individual power!Unite or be destroyed, how to choose?

Reborn as a Uchiha; only one year left until the night of the clan's massacre?It's over, I'm done for. With Uchiha Itachi taking action, there's no way to survive!However, fortunately, I have a life simulator.Initial simulation begins...[After half a month, you enroll in the Ninja Academy and learn basic knowledge!][After three months, you have mastered the method of chakra extraction and have been influenced by the Will of Fire!][After nine months, you successfully master the Clone Technique.][After twelve months, on the night of the clan's massacre, you watch as your friends and family are all killed before your eyes. In fear and anger, you successfully awaken your eyes, but then, you are killed!][Please choose an item to retain after the simulation!][Option 1: All the knowledge and skills you have learned!][Option 2: The increased amount of chakra!][Option 3: The awakened bloodline state!]Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the cover image. If you are the rightful owner and would like it removed, don't hesitate to get in touch with me, and I will take it down promptly.------- This is a Translation -------Original Author: 作者:静静小花RAW NAME: 忍界：我有人生模拟器

“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.