MTL - Dark Civilization - v13 Chapter 27 Lord of the Light Hall!

In this life, I will live for you.

Makoto Kenji, an overworked underpaid loser, was suddenly transported to another world along with a few of his co-workers.arriving in the new world. they were brought to save the world from the onslaught of the demon king.but while assessing their prowess, they realized that Kenji was an animal tamer, one lesser than a beast tsmer and could only tame dogs and cats and occasionally a few birds.eventually, Kenji was kicked out, though, he was kicked out with a lot of gold on him, so he could easily get by.Eventually once more, Kenji was able to create a life for himself with his regular cooking skills which were like greatness in this world.for the regular dish of rice and curry was powerful enough to make the people of this world increase their rank levels. ( Under classes, there are ranks, and under ranks, there are six levels)But even with the fame and money he gad acquired, Kenji eventually got bored and decided to become an adventurer!but on his first quest, something happened to him. something that would change his entire life and the faith of this world.

The Empress who dies in torture, An Rushuang is her name. After she wakes up, she finds herself has time-travelled to when she was twelve years old, but she would turn into Major General’s white horse at night. He is a general who orders about the winds and clouds on the battlefield, and she is a little girl lives in her boudoir seclusively.
She endeavors to change her fate, and he spared no effort to win every battle. They meet each other every day, well, it’s night to be accurate. Is that a dream or not? She pleads to marry the seignior to win peace for her family, only to find he is the one she is going to marry.
“Growing old with you under the same roof is my long-cherished wish”, thought them both.

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.