MTL - Don’t Pretend, I’m Actually Taking Special Forces - Chapter 937 Heatstroke!

Noah Black, a young man with an abusive father who had no opportunities in life, condemned to live a substandard life because of his father's mistakes.

Noah Black from the parallel universe, a marginalized, obese young man with social problems and a somewhat problematic but loving family, but who couldn't live long because of the mistakes he made.

When Noah 1's mind enters Noah 2's body with a Gamer System, the path to becoming the biggest superstar in this new world begins.

Is that body fat? I work out with the system and in a few days I have the perfect body!

Is my family poor? With my knowledge of my other world, I can make easy money!

Is this face ugly? With System I can look beautiful without plastic surgery!

Do I sing badly? In a few days, the System will transform my voice into the voice of an angel.

Do I act badly? In a few days, the System will make me an Oscar-worthy actor.

I can learn anything I want!

“Rising to the top was like a game, and now I have become the Final Boss of the entire world!” -Noah Black.

Ariadna Lereg Ilestri Pre Agrigent. And so my life begins with this ridiculously long name, born to royalty and the center of attention — all because of one dangerous man; the veritably insane tyrant king, ruthless conqueror of ten empires, nightmare of all continents… and my father?! Will I be able to survive this maniac?

He was born with the most powerful attribute ever seen—yet it’s the one power that no one can control. Not even him.Unstable. Chaotic. Dangerous.Aramith lived an almost quiet life—until strange visions and fragmented memories began to haunt him. Whispers of a name he doesn’t remember. Shadows moving where none should be. And a voice, deep within, urging him to awaken.When hidden forces begin to stir, and those he trusted reveal their fangs, Aramith is thrown into a war of secrets, bloodlines, and ancient powers.He doesn’t know who he is.He doesn’t know what he is.But something inside him does.And it’s waking up.In a world ruled by strength and deception, what happens when the greatest threat is the truth buried within you?And what will you do when you find out your world is nothing but a tiny piece, a fragment of a greater universe you never were prepared for, one that wishes for your extinction?

“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.