I Can Transform Into Any Monster - Chapter 11: Awakener Extracurricular

of the family. He had to care for his grandparents in place of his father, show respect to his uncles, maintain brotherly love...In this life, he only wanted to breat free from these bloodsuckers, find a sugar “daddy”, and by the way, nourish his stomach.*****Song Jiawen felt something was weird. That guy from next door—who had to return to the countryside to study because his father was imprisoned—suddenly switched from literature to science and joined her class, and even moved to the seat behind her. Ostensibly, he did it so she could tutor him in physics and biology, but why did she always feel like he had an ulterior motive?*****Years later, as Jiang Yan watched the soup simmering in the pot while soothing his son in his arms, he glanced back at his wife, who was leisurely watching TV on the sofa with her legs crossed, and thought miserably, this meal ticket he had married into was proving to be quite a struggle!

A dungeon core novel. But with bees. A bee dungeon, if you will. Oh, and something about a young man finding his place in the world and maybe learning about the deadly calamity that threatens all of humanity. But mostly the bee thing.

# COZY # OMNIPOTENT # CHIEFASSISTANT

In her past life, Mo Ruyue was a top-notch assassin. She was as indifferent as an abyss, and had killed more people than she had fingers to count. In her new life, she became the vicious stepmother of five munchkins in a remote mountain valley, and they were terrified of her. In this life, she decided to change the way she lived. She only had four bare walls for a house? Her children starved to the point they were just skin and bones? No problem. She could kill wild boars with her bare hands, so food wasn’t an issue. She was also proficient in multiplication tables, and her kids instantly became big fans of hers. It had been a difficult journey to change from a vicious stepmother to a warm one. Then, her supposedly dead husband suddenly returned, now the first minister of the dynasty.“Let’s divorce. Give me the children, and I’ll return the money to you.” “I don’t lack anything, just you and the children.”

“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.