SSS-Ranked Skill in a New Filthy World - Chapter 142 Can’t hold it in (+18)

When an unlucky, awkward virgin dies in the most humiliating way possible (you don’t wanna know), he wakes up not in heaven… but a mechanical construct powered by divine magics built for a single purpose: Sex.In a fantasy world cursed by a sexually frustrated demon queen, men can’t keep it up, women haven’t had a decent orgasm in centuries, and birth rates have plummeted harder than masculine egos. Society is teetering on the edge of population collapse—and the only thing standing between mass hysteria and sweaty salvation... is him.His new owners? A smoking-hot, elven herbwitch MILF and her fiery half-dwarf, half-elf genius daughter who created him as their latest “intimate invention.” After a magical screw-up gives him a soul (and an upgrade below the belt), he becomes the only pleasure unit capable of leveling-up his powers of pleasure, independent thought—and maybe... emotional connection?Now powered by aphrodisiacs, awkwardness, and sheer mechanical stamina, our hero must navigate lusty labs, intense moaning missions, and a society starving for satisfaction... all while trying to survive being “tested” and “reviewed” by every noblewoman, monster girl, and lonely tavern wench in the realm.------------------WARNING: May contain excessive thrusting, magical lubricant, seductive stat screens, and one very confused virgin trying to do the right thing! Reader Beware... and bring tissues.

WARNING: FL is scheming and evil.

“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.

A number of university students are given a simple survey in which they must watch a number of short films and rank them in order of preference. The reader takes the survey along with them with the short films being told as short stories.