Assassination System - Chapter 24 Chaos and Escalation of Situation

At 35, Lin Zhi finally died from exhaustion on the delivery table!In her life, she was never married or had children, faced with a difficult and bumpy fate, but fortunately, she successfully delivered 3000 babies.After death, she arrived in hell, where King Yan, appreciating her merit, allowed her to be reborn at the age of 20, and even bestowed her with a pair of... Holy Hands for delivering babies?!Lin Zhi was somewhat bewildered, she didn't want to be a midwife again!“King Yan sir, that... actually, you could grant me a cool, super-rich, devastatingly handsome husband who would love me for a lifetime.”King Yama said, “Lin Zhi, I think you'd better come back to hell with me!”

Weiss is an ordinary young man caught in the changing times who is studying magic from an unknown natural event. When he feels weak and helpless in facing a world that is constantly changing and filled with magic, he awakens his secret ability, the “Maid Order”. Special abilities that make him a “Master” who will be respected by the “Maids” who are loyal to him.

Born at the lowest grade, nobody thought Percy would amount to much.Everything changes when his bloodline manifests in an unexpected way, letting him possess random bodies across the cosmos. Snatching all sorts of advantages - like a second mana core - Percy can finally claim the resources and respect he's been denied.Yet, reaching the top won't be easy. Not every journey yields a valuable treasure, and neither the warring Houses nor the invading gods will wait for him to grow...***What to expect:- Weak to strong male MC- Daily releases- Fast paced with frequent powerups- Fantasy setting with magic and a system- Isekai elements (Percy often possesses random bodies on distant worlds)- Western cultivation elements (Cleansing mana core to extend lifespan)- Morally grey MC (Willing to break a few rules but not a scumbag)

“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.