Immortality Cultivation: I Farm in the System Space - Chapter 879 - 393 Trouble_2

My name is Chen Huaian, and I’m dying of cancer.In my final days, I became obsessed with a game where you raise a virtual girlfriend.I spent all my savings buying her cultivation manuals and magical artifacts. Though my wallet was empty, I smiled like never before.I always thought it was just a game—until one day, my virtual girlfriend sent me a mystical pill.The next second, the pill materialized in my hand.I… might not have to die after all?——————————————————My name is Li Qingran. I was stripped of my cultivation, had my spiritual roots torn out, and was exiled from my sect, left to die in a broken-down hut.Just as I thought my life was over, I encountered a mysterious benefactor who never showed their face.This enigmatic figure healed my wounds, guided my cultivation, and helped me grow stronger until I became the most powerful sword cultivator in the Cangyun Realm.But the Cangyun Realm is on the brink of collapse. Spiritual energy is drying up, and the path to immortality is fading. Rumors spread that a mighty immortal from the Celestial Realm plans to merge our world with another on the verge of a spiritual resurgence.A great era of chaos is coming.And even immortals may fall.Desperate to find my benefactor, I scour the world for their traces.I will protect them—and become their eternal partner in the Dao!

“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.

Dying in a tragic accident Marcus Ferrous gets transferred to a fantasy world of monsters and magic, except when he arrives contrary to what he expected he is now level one and a ghost. Left with nothing on a strange new world, Marcus will struggle with everything he has on his journey to get stronger and uncover the secrets of his new world.

In a world where elements lay barren and powerful wizards had abandoned their homeland a millennium ago to explore the multiverse, Sunan found himself reincarnated as a noble scion stripped of his title. This world, once brimming with magic and wonder, had fallen into a desolate state, and wizards had become mere legends.Sunan was acutely aware that after a thousand years, the elements would awaken once more, heralding the return of the wizards and ushering in a new era of prosperity. He understood that his path was clear: he must train diligently to become a wizard himself and survive until this glorious age arrived.“Resources are scarce?” he mused, determination flickering in his eyes. “Then I’ll just have to synthesize them myself.”With that thought, he activated the Synthesis Cube, a device that granted him the ability to combine materials into something new. This Cube was not just a tool; it was a symbol of his potential in this world, reflecting his status as a player in a game he once played.As he set to work, the Cube glowed with possibilities, presenting him with a myriad of options. He had a few basic materials at his disposal, remnants of his previous life and the knowledge he had accumulated from his past experiences in the game.Sunan began experimenting, combining herbs and minerals he had gathered. Each successful synthesis filled him with a sense of accomplishment, inching him closer to his goal of becoming a wizard.Days turned into weeks, and Sunan’s skills improved rapidly. He crafted potions, improved his understanding of magical theories, and honed his mental abilities through intense meditation practices. The Star Ring Meditation, one of the first techniques he mastered, allowed him to tap into the latent mental energy within himself, enhancing his cognitive functions and magical sensitivity.As he progressed, whispers of his endeavors began to circulate among the remaining noble families and the common folk. Some viewed him with suspicion, while others saw potential in the young man who dared to challenge the status quo.Sunan knew he needed allies. He began seeking out individuals who shared his vision—a return to the age of wizards. He discreetly approached the remnants of the nobility, the few who still held some influence, and began to forge connections.His reputation grew cautiously, and with it, the opportunities to gather resources and knowledge. He learned of hidden libraries, ancient texts, and artifacts that could aid in his quest.One fateful day, while exploring a forgotten ruin, he uncovered an ancient tome detailing the rituals of the wizards who had once thrived on this land. The pages contained knowledge that could accelerate his growth, including spells long lost to time.“This is it,” Sunan thought as he carefully transcribed the contents into his own notes. “With this, I can not only learn the spells but also improve my synthesis techniques.”As he delved deeper into the arcane arts, he realized that the key to his ascension lay not just in personal power but in understanding the intricate web of alliances and rivalries that defined noble society. He had to navigate these treacherous waters carefully.In the back of his mind, Sunan always remembered the impending return of the wizards. The time was coming when he would have to reveal his true potential and lead the charge into the new era.With each passing day, he grew stronger, more confident, and increasingly aware of the responsibilities that awaited him.The world was changing, and Sunan was determined to be at the forefront of that change—a wizard in a world that had forgotten what it meant to wield true power.