MTL - The King of Special Warfare - Chapter 3 : Yu's

When Li Xianyu was 20 years old, he received his father’s inheritance, an 18-year-old great-grandmother who was incredibly beautiful.

Li Xianyu: “Great-Grandma, why are you so young?”

Great-Grandma: “That’s because I died when I was 18 years old.”

Unexpectedly arriving in a world where humans and Pokémon coexist in harmony, Natsume inherits an abandoned farm.With Pidgey soaring through the skies and Heracross resting under the shade of trees, the world’s vivid reality unfolds before him.But instead of aspiring to become a Pokémon Trainer, Natsume seems more inclined to embrace the life of a farmer.Natsume: “It’s decided. From today on, I’ll be a farmer.”However, as time goes on, Natsume starts to realize that his goals may have shifted just a little.“Champion Natsume, are you saying you originally just wanted to be a farmer?” a reporter asks earnestly.Natsume: “Would you believe me if I said it wasn’t entirely my choice?”

Every hero starts with power. He started with dust.One moment, the classroom buzzed with teenage chatter. The next, silence fell. Students blinked—and opened their eyes in an ancient hall carved from gold and marble. The air shimmered with divine magic. And at its center stood a goddess—flawless, proud, unbelievably beautiful and wrapped in flowing white.It was a divine summoning performed by a divine goddess.Among them was Vritra… and his stunningly beautiful mother.While others received blessings, powerful physiques and grand titles, Vritra was given a skill so pathetic it made even the goddess wrinkle her nose. An ability—so pitifully weak that it drew laughter, scorn, and even disgust. But that wasn't the worst part.Betrayed and cornered inside the labyrinth, Vritra had two choices: die… or fall into the death trap.A death canopy with no exit and no chance of survival, the only option was to slaughter the demons endlessly for months.Finally!! He forced his dormant skill to awaken, after killing thousands and hundreds of thousands demons and devouring them, becoming a broken ability.******White robes. Cold arroganceA sinful revenge.White robes can stain. And in the dark, even divinity can moan.And then there was his mo— guilt in her breath, shame in her eyes, whispering apologies between gasps in her son's ear, doing what had to be done… for both their sakes.

Do not underestimate the act of tilling the soil. The practice of farming holds the power to command the clouds and dictate the rainfall with a mere flick of the wrist. Similarly, never undervalue the humble farmer, who might draw the gaze of stunning women, and vie for the affections of fluttering butterflies.A stunning journalist makes for a worthy companion, and even an aloof, imperious law enforcement officer could be brought to plead for mercy. A tutor? Allow me to provide additional instruction! I may appear as a regular individual, but through a stroke of fortune, I have embarked on a captivating journey, dancing amidst the wind and the clouds!