Cultivator vs. Galaxy: Rebirth in a World of Mechas - Chapter 67: Ch A talk and A cover

If mercy and kindness can't save the world, then this time, I choose violence. I was reborn in death, like sin under the blazing sun.——Ethan ColeHuff... What’s going on?There’s a flight attendant with a D-cup sleeping next to me!?Did I really get reborn!?Back to fifteen days before the zombie apocalypse game starts!?[Ding! Congratulations, lucky one! You’ve been granted a one-time chance to be reborn, along with a spatial storage ring!][Ding! Please choose: Join the humans or the zombies?]A cheat ability, and a storage ring!?If I choose to be human, I can stockpile supplies, hang out with different women in a safehouse... Isn’t this the perfect start for a post-apocalyptic hero?“So this time, I choose... zombies!”God: “Idiot!!! If I’d known, I would’ve given this rebirth chance to someone else!”

Born as a hybrid, I was ab*sed by my maternal grandfather because I was a useless child who didn’t inherit any abilities from my dad’s family, and ended up dying.I returned to the past with my memories, but my options weren’t so different from the past.I’ll either live like this and be ab*sed to death just like in my previous life, or I’ll go to my dad who hates me.‘I don’t want to die again.’Eventually I went to my dad who hated me, with a locket in my hand that would prove me to be the daughter of the Black Leopard family.“Let me…let me stay here.”All I asked for is protection until I became an adult. Then, when I was old enough to live alone, I was going to go out and live without causing trouble. Because I was going to be a good kid this time.But, somehow…“My beloved daughter, if there is anyone who touches you, I will kill them immediately.”My father, who I thought hated me, was so sweet to me.“Hey, Perfi, don’t keep hugging Thiel. At this time of year, I heard that girls are very delicate.”“Where did you learn that s*upid theory? Thiel likes to hug.”The two brothers who I thought were scary like me so much.“Thiel, I’m going to hand you over the head position of this Black Leopard family.”My paternal grandfather suddenly tells me that he is handing over his position to me.Hey …didn’t everyone hate me?

In the legends that were told, ten thousand years ago the twelve demon kings wreaked havoc upon the world, almost completely destroying it. Ten thousand years later, the late arriving Bella discovered that she had been screwed over by her reincarnation, the ranks of the Saviors are already filled and she has to change teams in order to pass the days. Having her gender changed into a beautiful girl… she endured that, not being able to join the righteous side and obtain cheat abilities… she endured, but what she could not endure, was that the world that she had transmigrated to was toxic beyond belief. No one here does their rightful jobs properly, be they heroes, demon kings, or creator gods… in fact, Bella felt as if they all had also started with the wrong faction!

“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.