Life in North America, you call this an autopsy officer?! - Chapter 175 - 143: Severe Mental Illness - Ferocious Old Man_3

After transmigrating to this world where spiritual energy is revived, I realized that it’s a world rampaged by Direbeasts. But what is most exciting is that humans with special abilities do exist! It’s awesome to witness control of thunder and fire, titan’s transformation, limb regeneration, teleportation, telepathy, precognition and many more.

ROMANCE! APOCALYPSE! DRAMA LOVING GOD! REBIRTH!The hospital lights buzzed faintly above her, the edges of her vision already blurring into white. Blood pooled in her lungs. No family. No friends. Just the relentless beeping of a monitor counting down her last seconds. Rosalie stared at the sterile ceiling, tears sliding sideways across her temple.“I didn’t even get to do anything.” She whispered. “No love. No one will remember I was here. If anyone’s out there… God, fate, whatever you are, hear me. Let me live again. Somewhere. Anywhere. Let me matter.”When she woke up again, she wasn’t Rosalie anymore. She was Mei Shen, a forgotten noblewoman trapped in a story of cold nights and cruel tyrant hands. One night. No promises. A pregnancy with a tyrant's child. She ran. Hid. Escaped fate’s cruel grip.But less than a month later everything changed.“Subject detected. Lianwei Voss has entered your proximity. Obsession level: 85% - critical. Imminent event : Apocalypse countdown initiated -time remaining: Unknown. New genre unlocked: Dark romance -Obsession + villainous devotion activated.”The game had changed. The rules were gone.“You broke the script. But you will never break me.”God whispered in her ear.The child she carried was a weapon, her vengeance a fire. And somewhere in the darkness, the emperor’s obsession burned hotter than ever.One night, beneath the empire’s broken skyline, she found a stranger, broken, bleeding, unknown. She saved him. Not knowing she was cradling her own nightmare.

“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.

I became a miserably weak aristocrat in the web novel ‘SSS-Class Knight’.

With a body that can drop at a moment’s notice, no less.

‘Let’s live for now. Let’s fight on.’

I have to survive, even without knowing the ending.