MTL - Druid’s Marvel Travels - Chapter 354 Hela's Necronomicon

She is the eldest daughter of the Zanying family, born noble, beautiful and beautiful, with a peerless appearance;

In the last life, she gave everything she had to help him win the world, but in return she got all her family killed;

In the last life, the person who killed her ascended to the throne of the phoenix, the mother of the world, the honor and wealth, but she was imprisoned in the cold palace and suffered all kinds of humiliation;

Reborn in elementary school, she is no longer a pawn at the mercy of others, she is the best in the world in medical skills, and she has a delicate heart to plan and plan the world;

In this life, she wants to protect her dear ones, to avenge her revenge, and to avenge her grudges;

In this life, she wants that young man who rides his horse and sings lightly, regardless of sword, light or sword, to live a long and safe life!

After 6,000 years of development by the immortal sect on Planet Earth, all of the leyline spiritual energy was controlled by the country. They only released enough spiritual energy for the cultivators to breathe. If a cultivator wanted to use the spiritual energy to train themselves, they would have to pay the immortal sect for that.

Chen Mobai was a senior high school student at the Fifth High School of the Immortal Sect. He was studying for his entrance exam at the colleges of the immortal sect. His biggest dream was to achieve the Foundation Establishment Realm until he was transmigrated to a cultivation world.

“There’s no one here despite how dense the spiritual energy is?”

“Wait! Isn’t this the legendary spiritual herb? Are these not extinct here?”

“Huh? Is this the method to extract one’s Spiritual Root? Also, isn’t this a divine technique?”

“What a powerful cultivator! Please accept me as your disciple!”

As his life in the cultivation world continued, his dream changed.

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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.

“But he is a good man,” she argued to see his eyes narrow at her words.