Stray Cat Strut - Chapter Thirty-One - Casanova Howitzer

An Individual from Earth finds themselves in the Shinobi World, equipped with a Scientific System. From that moment, he delved into scientific research far ahead of its time.___This is a translation. All rights to the original content belong to their respective creators.Original Author: 王炸炸Original Title: 火影:我是大蛇丸Cover Pic: By Blueorca, let me know in the comments if you want me to take this down.___Support me on patreon for 60+ Advanced chapters: patreon.com/Blownleaves.

He stomped his feet and the land collapsed, looked above and the sky shattered, reached out and captured the stars in his hands.

He possessed the body of the bullied and ostracized Esdras Varthos, who had the lowest talent among his peers and was sold to the mages tower by his sly relatives to steal his title and lands.

Esdras used his powers to divine the fate of the world, and saw a terrifying scene, the apocalypse was about to start.

This world was going to be destroyed in an epic battle between gods, demons and titans.

As an ant he was fated to be a squashed under their feet.

There were a total of eight shards scattered and hidden in the universe, his only hope was to collect them all and ascend to divinity himself before the apocalypse. He was not willing to be an ant for long.

He already had one shard of a divine spark!

[You have gained 10 EXP]!

He will travel to many different kinds of worlds in the universe seeking the divine shards.

Short, rich, and handsome, Lin Feiran was always the center of attention. But after transferring schools in his second year of high school, he discovered that his limelight was snatched by his Adonis classmate, Gu Kaifeng.

“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.