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... y ignoring any reactions coming from inside the training room, Cynrik's entire focus was on Brance because the moment he pulled his brother into the Shadow Realm, the youngest Jetlensr lit up with a dazzling golden light as he directly entered his [Nephilim Mode].

Two sets of Mana construct wings burst from his shoulders and lower back as he broke free from Cynrik's Umbral Tendril and put distance between them.

"You…" Brance started to say with narrowed eyes as he frantically sca ...

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Li Yao, a retired assassin, woke up one day to find herself transmigrated to ancient times and became a famous shrew far and wide.

With hands on her hips, she wailed loudly. Villagers called her the bane of ghosts, and even dogs would circle around when they saw her.

She had four children, her husband had passed away, and it was a disastrous year, leaving them poor as church mice.

Fortunately, River Bay Village was nestled against a big mountain, with wild chickens, wild boars, wolves, tigers, herbs, spices, corn, sweet potatoes, potatoes… it seemed to have everything.

Rely on the water to eat, and rely on the mountain.

With her skills that exceeded the times, Yao Li quickly became the wealthiest person in River Bay Village.

She was determined to stick to her original aspirations – retire and live out her remaining years in peace.

But as a widow, there were many things at her doorstep.

Her maiden family coveted her wealth; local ruffians lusted after her beauty; the magistrate admired her talents; the prefect wanted to rely on her to build up his political achievements; the scholar admired her literary talent; the chancellor respected her breadth of knowledge…

Wave after wave, wearing down her doorstep.

Even a Prince was amazed by her, finding all kinds of excuses to frequently visit and neglect his palaces.

Li Yao adapted to the circumstances, sparring back and forth, just wishing her retirement life would remain undisturbed.

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“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.