Mecha Battle: Why Do You Use Body to Destroy Stars? - Chapter 219 - 153: Field Guide to a Wild Legendary Mecha_1

Recommended new novel: A heartwarming story set in the '90s, “Back to 1990, She Set the Surgical World on Fire”When Xie Wanying returned to 1996 and said she wanted to become a doctor, many laughed.“A phoenix begets a phoenix, a dog begets a dog. If a truck driver's daughter can become a doctor, then pigs can climb trees.”“Not only do I want to be a doctor, but I also want to be a female thoracic surgeon,” Xie Wanying declared. When medical relatives sarcastically told her, “There is not a single female leading thoracic surgeon in the country—who do you think you are!”After the college entrance exams, Xie Wanying entered the top surgical class in the country with the highest provincial science score, began as an intern in a top-tier capital hospital, and was fought over by the heads of surgery departments. She performed the world's first minimally invasive heart valve repair, marking the first surgery in the female surgical field!The Overseas Returnee Faction senior brother was a hot bachelor in the capital's circle and changed his QQ profile picture to one with his junior sister Xie.The young boss was a handsome man who came to the hospital every day to bring flowers and offer diamond rings.Not to mention the horde of well-wishers that had practically broken down the door of old Xie's house...——————“No woman loves a man who's not a little bit bad.”When a woman married him, everyone said, “This woman must be a bad woman who would stop at nothing to curry favor with him.”Everyone was curious about what kind of person Mrs. Xiao was when they heard that Mr. Xiao had gotten married.“My wife has overshadowed me. Everyone knows she is deaf, so they blatantly speak ill of her in front of her and openly discuss the bad things they plan to do to her,”Host: ............

“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.

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!

“With my knowledge, give me a fulcrum on which to place it and I shall move the world!”