All My Disciples Are Kings - Chapter 9: The second sword!

Elara was not a nosy person, but something about her supposedly perfect boss helplessly weeping at night in an empty office triggered her curiosity.Mr. Terrence, her boss, was the ideal image of perfection: powerful, rich, and amiable. There had not been a single flaw in him until the day she saw the crack in his mask.Not only was he not the dominant figure she had assumed, but he was also clingy, sweet, and... wasn’t this the ideal puppy boyfriend?! How was this possible? Her boss was actually a secret softie!Follow Elara as she navigates the chaotic relationship with her 'perfect' boss, filled with nothing but surprises!

Every night, he prayed. To every god on Earth.“Please, transport me to a fantasy world when I wake up tomorrow.”And then one day, his prayers were answered.Just not in the way he had hoped for.

“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.

Seojin transmigrated into the novel named ‘777: The Crowned Sovereign’ as Seven, a side character.Here, he was the seventh child of the seventh archduke of the seventh kingdom of the seventh continent.On Earth, he was raised by his seventh stepfather and the child of the seventh ex-wife of the seventh mayor. He even had his seventh maid quit the job.He was also the seventh reader of the novel he transmigrated into.[Welcome, Seventh Reader! Your loyalty has been awarded.]With this many sevens, will he curse it as an unlucky number or… praise it seventy seven times?…Note: The author is a complete newbie and this is the seventh draft. Please don't expect this as such a grand story.Thanks. Merci. Danke. Bedankt. Terima kasih. Gracias. Salamat.Congrats! You just learned how to say ‘thanks’ in seven languages! ;P