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Next chapter: Chapter 561
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... links was loud as Bei Yau raised his sword to ward off the secret weapon-like object.

“Your Highness be careful!”

Everyone was shocked by what happened, not to mention Luo Xiang who threw his hand in the air to block another object that flying at them. Throw the weapon back to wherever it came from, and a loud groan was heard.

“Ah!”

The participants who were on the sidelines held their breath when the sudden incident slammed one of the competitors who was competin ...

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WARNING: MATURE CONTENT!Ahmet's laughter was like a slap in the face. “You think you're in a position to negotiate with me?” he sneered. “I don't think so, Asli. You'll do what I say, or suffer the consequences. Do you want more time to outsmart me? No.”She could play his game. She certainly could do that before she finally killed him. A mischievous grin formed on her lips. “What would you gain from sleeping with me?” she asked, trying to keep her tone neutral. “You're not exactly known for your romantic conquests. And we're rivals, not to mention the fact that our families would kill us if they found out.” She paused, her eyes narrowing. “So, what's the real motive here? What could you possibly gain from this?”There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, Asli wondered if she had caught him off guard. But then, Ahmet's smooth voice came back, dripping with confidence. “I’m glad to know you are well-informed about my romantic conquests. Let's just say, Asli, that I have my reasons. And as for what I'd gain… well, that's for me to know and you to find out.” His tone sent a shiver down her spine, and she knew she had to tread carefully. She wasn’t going to win this against him.“Show me what proof you have and I will give in to your demands.” With that, she hung up the call, feeling a small sense of satisfaction at being the one to end the conversation this time. She was the only woman in the male-dominated Mafia world. Did he think he could subdue her so easily?

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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.