Major League System - Chapter 5: Seeing Daichi Again (1)

After being abandoned by her long time boyfriend on their wedding day, Rachael lost all her faith in love and relationships. But that changed when she met Andrew again.

With no hope of finding love again in her life, Rachael agreed to marry her father's best friend's son, Andrew Collins. But little did she know fate had different plans for her.

…..

Excerpt:

Holding his drunk wife in his arms, Andrew kicked the bedroom door open.

When he placed her in the bed, Rachael slowly opened her eyes. “Are we home?”

“Yes.” Taking her heels off, he covered her with the quilt. “I'll get you some warm water.” But before he could get up, she grabbed his hand.

“What happened? Do you want something else?”

Kicking the quilt off, she crawled in his lap. Placing one hand on his cheek and the other at the back of his neck, she inched closer. “Andrew—”

“Hmm?”

“I think I am falling for you, what should I do?”

Caelen died doing what he loved most: playing survival games non-stop like a sleep-deprived goblin. Unfortunately, dying in your chair from gaming overload isn’t exactly what you’d call a dignified exit. Even God laughed at him.But lucky for Caelen, or maybe unlucky, he gets a second chance in the world of his favorite survival game. It’s a brutal fantasy realm full of monsters, magic, swords… and absolutely zero indoor plumbing.Armed with only a stone pickaxe, a limited-use “Google Brain” search skill, and the stubbornness of a man who once built a Minecraft mansion out of dirt, Caelen sets out to survive. But surviving isn’t enough he wants to upgrade the world. Electricity? Toilets? Toasted bread? Why not all three?As he fends off nighttime horrors, awkwardly crafts furniture, and tries to avoid becoming monster chow, Caelen has one mission: bring modern convenience to a medieval world, one ridiculous invention at a time.And maybe, just maybe… not die again in a chair.[System Notes:No Ntr, No Yuri(gl), No Yaoi(bl)]

Ever since she transmigrated, she was blessed with an inbuilt anti-poison detector.

“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.