To achieve immortality, I cultivate using Qi Luck - Chapter 433: 224: That is Light

The Red Dragon came from the vast wild wastes, coveting all the strength in the world. It once had countless titles: Mountain's Wrathful Flame, Infernal Calamity, Crimson Emperor, Ashen Dragon......The world trembled under the shadow of the giant dragons. He stirred up the craze of the magic industrial revolution; in the empire he established, Wyverns roared, artillery fired in unison, and steel beasts appeared in the sky and on the land, while disasters from another world rampaged everywhere.“Submit, or die.”Cassius spread his wings, blotting out the sun, and gazed down at the trembling humans, elves, and dwarves below, saying thus.......It is a story about a Red Dragon with a player template conquering, ruling, and transforming an alternate world.(Pseudo of DnD, The Fourth Calamity, Red Dragon)

Augustus Cross was a man close to his 30s with nothing to his name. People rolled their eyes at the seemingly useless man and he remained helpless even as his daughter was at the brink of death.When all hope seemed lost, the hidden dragon within him was unleashed when the seal broke accidentally as his birthmark was stained with his own blood. Knowledge of ancient arts filled his subconscious, granting him powers to cure his daughter and other incurable illnesses.A man who was once looked down by everyone is unstoppable now. What lies beyond this man with the power he now possesses?

«Until death do us part.»That was our vow.And she kept it... by driving her sword through my chest.I was a hero. A symbol. The one chosen by the gods to free humanity.I fought for her. For us.But in the end, it wasn’t the demons who killed me.It was the woman I loved.Helena betrayed me.I fell with my heart shattered and my blood burning between my fingers.But death wasn’t the end.I woke up in another body, in another world...No, not exactly.I woke up inside the very story she wrote.And now, I am Daven von Riesenhart:the bastard son of a marquess, a noble outcast with a name no one respects, and a life I never asked for.I no longer believe in ideals, in gods, or in happy endings.I won’t fight for others.I won’t die for anyone.This time, I’ll live only for myself.And if surviving means deceiving, betraying, or destroying...so be it.Even if it makes me the villain of this story.

“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.