MTL - Escape From Konoha - v6 Chapter 232 plot

After transmigrating back from the Cultivation World, she started farming and live streaming to sale fresh local produce in hometown.——Having failed to transcend the tribulation of the Golden Core, Song Tan returned to the modern era, only to find herself at the scene of a serial car accident. She barely survived thanks to the timely rescue of a benefactor.With that, what else was there to consider? Forget being a corporate slave, let's go back home and farm!!!With her experience in cultivation, Song Tan created her own picturesque land, foraged for wild vegetables, cooked farm meals, picked cucumbers, started live streaming, and sold mountain delicacies...

There is a saying that goes, a rabbit does not eat the grass by its own burrow.Doctor Jiang said seriously: “Nonsense, this is clearly the case of the pavilion closest to the water enjoying the moonlight first.”He is the young and promising psychologist Jiang Baizhou, skilled in understanding people's hearts, cold and noble. After marrying his childhood sweetheart Nie Cenjin, he was only enthusiastic about showing off their love.For several consecutive days, Cen Jin received strong complaints from relatives and friends about his 'shameful' behavior and finally couldn't bear it anymore: “Can't we just be a bit more low-key?”Doctor Jiang lazily lifted his eyelids and said, “No way, if they don't like it, they'll just have to hold it in.”Later, the always gentle and lovely Cen Jin declared she wanted a divorce, Doctor Jiang narrowed his eyes slightly: “Divorce?”Nie Cenjin pouted seriously and earnestly: “Yes, divorce.”Sitting on the sofa, Doctor Jiang hesitated for a moment, the depths of his eyes revealing a hint of laughter as he slowly got up, walked over, wrapped his arms around her waist, and gently caressed her increasingly round belly with his other hand: “Be good, we don't dream during the day.”【A sweet romance with mutual covert love, 1V1, are you lacking sweetness today?】

Lacking a pocket dimension, lacking a power, lacking a thigh to hug onto and the three life advantages (money, power, and looks), he had been cautiously living in the apocalypse for ten years, getting closer to falling inside the zombie’s mouths. But unexpectedly, he had the terrible luck, to be caught in a fight between two gangs and die, it really left people feeling disappointed.

But when he opened his eyes, he had returned to a decade ago, three months before the apocalypse!

Like before he still lacked an ability, an ordinary person without a pocket dimension, but he did have ten full years of experience living in the apocalypse! Even if he didn’t fight zombies, didn’t hunt monsters, he could still live a carefree farming life in the safe zone.

Find a safe house, utilise all kinds of skills from his previous life to farm in exchange for meat, and if possible, find a person to peacefully spend the rest of his life with; ordinary people had their own ordinary little pieces of happiness.

Originally believing he had picked up a beauty he returned home to prepare a golden house, but on the contrary he was the one being pushed down……someone once said, whether it is people or matters, by no means can you only look at the surface!

- Description from novelupdates

“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.