Apocalyptic World: Surviving with my husband and my cute little babies - Chapter 189: Playing around

The Demon Empire in the universe was reborn and came back! Enemies should kneel down in front of him! Beauties should lie down in front of him!

“I am a demon. I enslave gods and immortals! If you don’t succumb to me, I will convince you by force!”–Ye Feng!

- Description from Novelupdates

In the world of Aetheria, there is one name that is feared by all. Yet, he is known more for his title, the Demon General. Whether it’s Gods or Demons, no beings dare to oppose his authority. He ruled Aetheria with an iron hand. Cities are destroyed on his whim. Countries are razed at his displeasure.This is the tale of his rise to power.This is the tale of his rise to Godhood.This is the tale of the rise of the Demon General.

Veyne came from the life of sewer rats.The world saw him as a failure. He called it belief. Others called it stupidity. Either way, it was the only thing he had left.Even at rock bottom, Veyne never stopped believing in himself.Betrayed by his lover and brother, treated as a burden, and forced to slave endlessly in the game to chase his dream—he endured it all.Though late, his obsession was finally rewarded with an opportunity. But the sewer rat in him was too weak to hold onto it. He had fought the world and lost.Actions have consequences. And when he failed in the game, those consequences caught up to him, leading to his death.But the universe wasn’t done with him yet.Given a second chance, he returned to a time when the game had already been out for two years. This time, he rushed to obtain the Template Wilder class—the very class that led to his downfall.One of the game’s rarest hidden classes, the Wilder class, allowed him to switch into different forms based on the monster templates he possessed. An overpowered ability—but it came with a fatal catch.A hidden template forced him into the form of an ancient baby creature, one so cursed that players, monsters, and even NPCs would hunt him down. If he died in that form, his character would be permanently deleted.In his past life, he underestimated the class’s dangers. And the world tore him apart for it.This time, it wouldn’t be just hollow belief.This time, he’s not here to survive—he’s here to dominate.No emotional ties.No second chances.The entire game is his enemy, and he will crush anyone who stands in his way.He failed once. He suffered. He died. He was erased.Not this time.This is the beginning of his legend. The era of Veyne Draven.

“They Call Guys Like Me a Simp.”(Meanwhile, I’m out here living what their favorite MC only dreams about.)You ever notice how stories glorify the ones who feel nothing?The MC who never laughs.Never feels.Who plays women like chess pieces and calls it intelligence.He manipulates a girl? “He’s strategic.”He never opens up? “He’s mysterious.”He never flinches, never laughs, never lives —And you call that strength?Funny.Because to me?That’s just a prison in disguise.You see an “alpha.”I see a boy too scared to feel anything real.While they spend ten chapters monologuing about logic and sacrifice,I’m already making the Saintess scream,drenched in sin,halo cracked,legs trembling from truths her prayers never taught her.And I didn’t get there with cold eyes or control.I got there with laughter and chill. With warmth. With a grin and a hand on her thigh.I didn’t need to dominate her mind —I freed her heart.But that scares people, doesn’t it?Because readers trust the ones who suffer.Who stay quiet.Who kill without blinking and love without showing it.But me?I flirt.I laugh.I take hits and smile back, bloody and defiant, as if too weak to get angry.I don’t need to pretend emotions are weakness.I weaponize mine.Pleasure. Connection. Laughter.That’s my arsenal.And while your favorite MC is still calculating his next five moves,Trying to outwit death and romance like both are math problems,I’m already balls deep in the jade fairy — her sacred yin furnace clenching like it’s worshipping my shaft, her Dao Echo shattered into breathless moans, and her so-called cultivation path leaking down her thighs while she begs me to break her meridians again.You call that luck?Nah.That’s mastery of the three worlds.Because in a world that respects coldness,I came in hot.Where others manipulate, I connect.Where they posture, I play.Where they sacrifice, I seduce.So go ahead.Call me a simp.But while your genius MC is busy monologuing about destiny,I’m the one making goddesses question theirs —with a smirk, a touch, and no regrets.I’m not the hero.Not the villain.I’m just a simp… the kind who leaves your cold, emotionless MC’s woman dripping, ruined, and too stretched to go back to him.