Fortunate to Have You This Lifetime - Chapter 298 - : Second Trial

She was originally a puppet of her family. Pursued by the police for being a business spy and hitman, she was betrayed and fell into the sea.

When she opened her eyes again, she had turned into an ordinary high school student. Because of a disgraceful birth, she had been crowded out by her relatives. Because of inferiority complex and antisocial behavior, she was bullied by her classmates.

But now she is no longer someone who acts timid. Cheat her, and she will break your bones.

She possesses formidable Jade pupils capable of seeing through walls. Other people have difficulty breaking through jade, their sight for antiques is based on gambles, but she only needs a look.

An undertaking begins as she creates legends in the world of business.

Once upon a time, they laughed at her poor and destitute state. Now looking at her net worth of 10 billion, it can’t be explained.

To the relatives that come to hug her thighs, she must apologize: “We broke off relations long ago, so get lost!”

During a party one evening in the royal palace, Rachel, the eldest daughter of Duke Ferguson, was reproached by Prince Elliot for sins she didn’t remember committing and their engagement was abandoned. Rachel informed everyone she had not committed the acts they were accusing her of, but she was dragged away out of the party venue and thrown into the palace dungeon.

«Until death do us part.»That was our vow.And she kept it... by driving her sword through my chest.I was a hero. A symbol. The one chosen by the gods to free humanity.I fought for her. For us.But in the end, it wasn’t the demons who killed me.It was the woman I loved.Helena betrayed me.I fell with my heart shattered and my blood burning between my fingers.But death wasn’t the end.I woke up in another body, in another world...No, not exactly.I woke up inside the very story she wrote.And now, I am Daven von Riesenhart:the bastard son of a marquess, a noble outcast with a name no one respects, and a life I never asked for.I no longer believe in ideals, in gods, or in happy endings.I won’t fight for others.I won’t die for anyone.This time, I’ll live only for myself.And if surviving means deceiving, betraying, or destroying...so be it.Even if it makes me the villain of this story.

“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.