I Signed-In For A Billion Dollar Mansion From The Very Beginning - Chapter 452 - Lin Fan is Really the Right Person

# DAILY # PRIMITIVE # MORAL # RELAXEDA story of grit and triumph over adversity. When Jiang Xuan transmigrates to a primitive tribe, he is barely conscious of a vicious attack by an enemy tribe. Only he and a few others survive.Together, they have to work out how to survive in the wild: building shelter, making tools and weapons, hunting and gathering, and cultivating crops. They face constant dangers from ferocious creatures and hostile tribes.Beneath a lofty mountain with mysterious ancient vines, they decide to build a new tribe, the Vine Tribe.It is time to exact their revenge on the Black Crow Tribe that has ruthlessly destroyed their lives...

Yuan Xi had been the secretary for Gu Hanchen for five years, working tirelessly without a single day off. Not only was she overworked like a horse, but she was also slandered by Gu Hanchen's fiancee and her friend, Miss Chu, who accused Secretary Yuan of delusionally hoping to turn from a sparrow into a phoenix and become the wife of President Gu. No longer able to tolerate the treatment, Yuan Xi handed in her resignation letter. After resigning, the once overburdened secretary surprisingly turned out to be the legitimate heiress of the wealthiest family in Jiangcheng, the Chu family! Back at the Chu household, Yuan Xi discovered that the family had taken in an adopted daughter, Chu Yan, who had been standing in for her. The false heiress was bright and unrestrained, rightfully considered the unrivaled young mistress of Jiangcheng. Even after the return of the true heiress, Chu Yan remained the celebrated young mistress while Yuan Xi was invariably seen as a mere shadow when compared to Chu Yan's splendid life. Yuan Xi's husband did not even own a house in the center of Jiangcheng. In contrast, the impostor Chu Yan was set to marry into one of Jiangcheng's top four wealthy families, the Bo family. Everyone in Jiangcheng ridiculed Yuan Xi for not having a life as fortunate as the false heiress, nor a discerning eye. That was until the day when Mi Chen was listed on the stock market, and Yuan Xi swiftly rose above her own father to become the new wealthiest person in Jiangcheng. On the day Yuan Xi's child was born, the established noble Huo family from A City announced with great fanfare the joy of welcoming a new grandson... Yuan Xi had always thought that her marriage to Huo Shiyen was merely a shotgun wedding, and that Huo Shiyen had someone else he considered his childhood sweetheart and sweetheart under the moonlight. Only later did she realize that she was, in fact, his cherished childhood love.

Corvin Blackmoor was a man carved by war and betrayal.From the blood soaked deserts of Afghanistan to the shadowed corridors of British Intelligence, he served and watched ideals crumble into lies.Patriotism. Honor. Loyalty.He buried them all long before a Quds Force assassin silenced his final breath.But death was only the beginning.Dragged from the ruins of a dying world, Corvin awakens in Valtheris. A savage world ruled by magic, where gods are myths, and survival is written in blood.He is no longer human.He is the last of the Dark Parasytes, an extinct race once so feared that every kingdom, every empire, and every mage order hunted them to extinction.Armed with Shadow Siphon, the power to replicate the strengths of others, Corvin stands alone at the bottom of an alien food chain.Weaker than a wild beast, with enemies and predators lurking in every forest, every court, every throne.Weakness is temporary, patience is eternal.In a world fractured by ancient wars, between noble Elves, scheming Demons, ruthless Humans, primal Feralis and Aetherborn Corvin will climb.He will feast. He will conquer.And in the shadows of Valtheris, the last predator will rise.No gods. No masters.Only the cold ambition of a man who has nothing left to believe in… but power itself.

“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.