MTL - Natural Fairy Species - Chapter 287v3 The knot is perfect

Have you heard of it?In the dead of night, if you turn on a music player, put on earphones, hide under the blanket, and listen to a single on loop…After it loops forty-four times, you will fall asleep. If you are unlucky when you open your eyes again, you will no longer be lying on your bed, but you will enter a strange space completely isolated from reality.That space… On the surface, it looks like the places we usually see—your bedroom, living room, underground parking garage, bathroom, basketball court, construction site, and so on. But if you observe carefully, you will discover that they are different… Everything is different.***This is the experience of an ordinary person who, after acquiring superpowers, transforms and grows step by step in Dead Ends to reach the peak.

“Can’t I properly read stallion novels anymore!”

Shen Yuan transmigrated into someone who’d tormented the young male lead almost to death, the scum villain Shen Qingqiu.

It must be known, the original Shen Qingqiu ended up being carved alive by his disciple, Luo Binghe, into a human stick, a human stick!

Ten thousand “fuck your moms” rampaged through Shen Qingqiu’s heart:

“It’s not that I don’t want to cling to the male lead’s thighs, but who made him so fucking black. The type who seeks thousand-fold retribution!”

Why have all the female lead’s scenes been forcibly given to him.

Why, as a scum villain, does he need to constantly sacrifice himself, blocking knife and gun for the protagonist!

Shen Qingqiu: “…I think I can still save him, one more time.”

A gong who starts as a loyal dog of a small white flower, and ends up as a blackened, mental case of a maiden X a refined scum villain of a tsukkomi-holic shou

This is actually a dogblood story about a master-disciple pair never doing honest work, fighting monsters, and engaging in romance.

It’s also a story where the villain personally witnesses how the male lead transforms from a little sheep of a white lotus into a dark tyrant O(∩_∩)O~

- Description from novelupdates

Chen Sansi traveled back to the chaotic end of a dynasty, thankfully with the hardworking system by his side. He originally wanted to hunt to earn money and someday go to the Martial Arts Hall to learn some basic fist and foot techniques, aspiring just to be an ordinary rich man. Yet, fate had other plans. With officials imposing heavy taxes and the Martial Arts Hall bullying the citizens, he had no choice but to enlist in the army to survive, becoming an archer. From “archery (entry-level),” he worked tirelessly up to “operating a ten thousand weight bow, where arrows cannot be dodged,” taking the heads of enemy generals from a hundred miles away! From “basic soldier’s spear technique,” he worked tirelessly up to “National Guardian Dragon Spear, growing more valiant with each battle,” standing firm with a spear on horseback, alone turning back the Enemy Army of a million! Years later, Chen Sansi, having campaigned in the south and battled in the north, was truly invincible under the heavens, commanding two hundred thousand of the Iron Cavalry. Watching his subordinates forcibly ascend him to the throne and become emperor, he felt quite helpless: ’You... you have really caused me trouble!’

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”