Reincarnated as an Energy with a System - Chapter 1245 Beast Repository

She was originally a daughter of a thousand gold, but who would have thought that her father would be demoted to the south of the Five Ridges once. Start with a dilapidated house, nothing you want!

A broken house is a broken house. A family working together is better than anything else. Zhao Liya took her parents, brother, sister and righteous brother to open up wasteland and farm, and make a fortune. There are treasures everywhere in Lingnan. If you work hard to start a business, your life will become more and more prosperous.

In the process of working hard to farm and make money, she met a very compatible partner. She pointed east, and her partner would never go west. She said that she would go to the sea, but her partner would never go up the mountain. Making spices, opening a restaurant… My partner said: “Good!”

Zhao Liya is very satisfied, give her another fight with such a partner!

Partner: “Not good! Just me is enough!”

Later, when the partner’s identity was exposed, Zhao Liya clenched her fists, “It’s really enough to have you alone!”

- Description from novelbuddy

Two Zatarian youths embark on a cross-dimensional journey to uncover their true identities, encountering both allies and formidable adversaries along the way.They must collaborate to decipher the significance of the symbol imprinted on them, but a faction known as the Nitharians seeks to eliminate them before they can uncover the truth. Naburo, the leader of the Nitharians, has dispatched his most trusted son and his team to guarantee the success of this mission.Will Naburo's son and his team prevail before the Zatarians discover their true selves?

When the admissions office of Witch Academy called, I was stunned—I had been accepted into a school I never imagined I could touch.Yes, I am a boy and it is an all-girls’ academy, but they did not mind, so I saw no reason to object. I had applied secretly, without telling my family, just to take a chance.But as soon as those striking seniors greeted us newcomers—pressing every boy against the wall with a knowing smile—I realized things were about to spin out of control.“Oh, come now, you sweet little freshman,” one of them said smoothly, her voice full of mischief. “Don’t make this difficult for me, your big sis. Swallow this core and transform into a witch like me, alright?”She held the glowing orb before us, half-threatening, half-teasing, almost inviting the new boys to react. It was clear she enjoyed it—the blend of fear and resistance in their expressions. Our unease seemed to be her personal amusement.After all, they only had this opportunity once a year.

“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.