Green Skin - Chapter 245: The Sword Saint, Ha Yuri

Living an unfulfilled life, Zack Gray meets an untimely end–that is, until he’s given a second chance, in a new world, under a new name: “Leon Schoeller.” Heir to the Schoeller Estate, a powerful and prestigious noble family, a life of luxury surrounded by maids and butlers of elite skills of their own awaits the reborn man.[Lord System Activated.]In addition to being blessed with a genius mind and magical talent, the [Lord System] grants Leon supernatural abilities, from empowering his servants, conquering beasts, and even manipulating his mansion.However, as gifted as he finds himself, the world around him is full of lurking threats, forcing him to level up if he expects to keep his cozy life intact.

CONTENT WARNING:/This novel contains mature themes, explicit sexual content, strong language, and adult situations. Reader discretion is advised./---She ran from the devil who raised her…And married the one who wore a crown.After her parents’ tragic death, Lydia Andreyevna’s life became a nightmare. Stripped of her name, inheritance, and freedom by her uncle—Lord Alexander—she was treated like property and promised to a Count four times her age.Desperate to escape, she fled into the cold night… and straight into blood.A stranger. Wounded. Beautiful. Terrifying.She should’ve left him.But she didn’t.She touched him once—and fate branded her forever.Her uncle caught her the next morning. Her escape failed. But when she begged Queen Olga for protection, the Queen offered her a deadly bargain:Marry the masked Grand Duke of Zolotaria.The king’s hunting dog. The butcher of the East. The devil in a crown.The man feared by kings.The heir to the throne.The same man she once saved.Ivan Romanov.They say he bathes in blood. That he kills without blinking. That he conquered kingdoms with a smile behind a mask. That no one sees his face—and lives.Some call him the devil. Others call him Death’s favorite son.But behind the mask is the same man she found dying in the dark.The same voice that haunted her dreams.The same hands she once held.Now, he’s her husband.Her jailer.Her obsession.She doesn’t know if she’s his prisoner, or his weakness.Cold and untouchable, Ivan doesn’t share his bed. Doesn’t share his secrets. But she sees it—the hunger in his eyes. The pain in his silence. The way he looks at her like she’s the only thing keeping his demons at bay.She should fear him.She should hate him.But the moment she dares to take off his mask… it’s already too late.Because Ivan wants her—her fire, her body, her heart.And in his world, what he wants, he keeps.Even if it means burning down the kingdom.She thought she was running from hell.She ended up in his bed.And the most dangerous thing of all?She doesn’t want to leave.

Noah Brown had a gift for fighting. Unfortunately punching things didn't pay the bills, at least until he died and an Eldritch god found his soul. The encounter led him to a new world, summoned by bloody cultists, with nothing but the shirt on his back, and a strange item in his system menu.

[???] : A source of infinite potential.

Perhaps he'd finally get to put his gifts to good use.

“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.