Sealed Divine Throne - Chapter 687 - Blood Domain and Domain of Extreme Cold (I)

What does it feel like when you have a best-selling detective fiction author for a boyfriend?

Whenever you offend him, he would look at you disdainfully, “A character molded after you could only ever appear in my novel as a deceased victim.”

Whenever you seriously offend him, he would threaten you, “The very next victim who dies in my novel would be named after you.”

Whenever you seriously, seriously offend him, he would add on to the previous threats, “Furthermore, the victim would have died at the hands of an extremely perverse and twisted serial killer, and would have suffered an extremely painful and terrible death.”

But, by a stroke of coincidence, if you happen to be this best-selling author’s editor, he need not resort to the above mentioned tactics. In fact, all he has to do is one, single thing –
-Delay the submission of his draft.

- Description from Novelupdates

Sherlock is a new generation Dungeon Lord whose ambition is to become the greatest Devil King and building up the greatest Dungeon in the Underworld.

“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.

The worst student of Westroad Academy. The disgrace of the Blake House. A new soul enters the body of Frey Blake, who couldn’t overcome his miserable life and chose death instead. “What’s with this body? I’ll have to work on tuning it from scratch.” The Great Mage Lucas Traumen, with the body of Frey Blake, gains a chance at revenge!