A Mistaken Marriage Match: Record of Washed Grievances - Chapter 9

Jeff, who died while doing his usual daily routine, found himself transmigrated into another world one that was twice the size of Earth.At first, he thought life would be the same. Peaceful. Boring, even. Just another world with different skies and landscapes.But he was wrong. On one fateful night, while he lay in his small room, a sudden ding echoed through the air.It was sharp, clear, and unnatural like something out of a sci-fi film. And then… something appeared before his eyes.[Luck Spin System has finally bind][Congratulation you have gotten a skill: Godly Programming]With this luck finally his dream can finally come true which is making games, seeing that their was no minecraft in this world he decided to recreate it.Then his journey began starting as a programmer, he quickly rose to dominate the digital field, racing field, swimming field, shooting field, combat field, robotics field, hacking field, academic field, business field, gaming field, drone piloting field, artificial intelligence field, engineering field, virtual reality field, and even the military simulation fieldWhat would Jeff do with all these, skill and titles read to find out of course....Thank you for reading, and I hope you’ll continue to support me on my journey as an author.******************************************** DISCLAIMER ********************************************This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, applications, songs, technologies, locations, events, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously for storytelling purposes.Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to real companies, brands, applications (such as ChatGPT, Minecraft, or other well-known services), or any other entities is purely coincidental. All real-world references are included as part of the fictional setting and do not imply any endorsement, association, or ownership by the original creators.The author has no intention to defame, discredit, or infringe upon the rights of any individual, brand, organization, or intellectual property. This story is created solely for entertainment and creative expression, and should not be taken as factual or representative of real-life entities or events.Readers are advised to treat all references in this work as fictional, regardless of name similarities or thematic inspiration.

Xiao Mengxin accidentally entered the Lixingshe Secret Service.

The only ability is to accurately identify who is the hidden Japanese.

I don’t understand anything else…

As a result, I seemed to be walking astray while walking?

- Description from novelbuddy

The Immortal stroked the top of my head, and as my hair was tied up, I was bestowed with eternal life.IBM z15, 190 CPUs, 40T of memory, 12.2 billion transistorsArriving in the Cultivation World with a portable data center space, a tale of cultivation aided by the IBM z15.All for the sake of immortality!

“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.