MTL - There is Room For the Hot Lady In the Farmhouse - Chapter 100 back home

This year, Chi Ye has not yet embarked on the journey, the Rockets are still the most terrifying organization in Kanto, Sakagi has made a lot of money, and Niijima’s Chaomeng is still doubting life.

This year, Gu Liu has not been able to find a way to capture Celebi.

This year, Shui Wutong and Chi Yansong were only the leaders of two fan clubs, worried about preaching.

This year, Dr. Damu has not yet produced a picture book…

This year, everything did not happen, but someone was born in this year!

Someone: Excuse me! Don’t stop me from winning the championship! Otherwise, there is your good juice to eat!

(The world background of this book is mainly based on animation, but some content/relationships will be modified: Pokemon, Pokemon, Pokemon, Pokemon)

- Description from novelbuddy

Pressured to get married or lose her father's financial support to pay for her mother's medical bills, Joanna Baker, the illegitimate daughter of the Baker family, is devastated when her boyfriend chooses another woman over her on their wedding day.Joanna, feeling distraught, witnesses a man in a wheelchair proposing to his girlfriend at a restaurant. The girlfriend's rejection and subsequent insult for his disability left everyone stunned.Feeling a shared sense of betrayal, she approaches the man with a vengeful proposition.“Excuse me, sir. Your girlfriend dumped you, and my boyfriend chose another woman over me. Let's get married for six months and get revenge on them.”What will Joanna do when she finds out the man she proposed marriage to was none other than Alexander King, the heir of the wealthiest family in NYC? He was also the cold CEO of King Multinational, with a hidden identity, Salvatore Black, whose name caused even presidents shiver? Has she just signed a deal with the devil?

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...

“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.