MTL - Maze Survival: Only I Can See Hints - Chapter 397 The assassin made a fatal blow and got an epic sword

A calculating merchant of noble birth lives a comfortable life managing his guild's business at the Imperial Academy—until lightning strikes him, leaving him with prophetic visions of a disastrous future. In these visions, he's expelled from his family, branded a traitor who aids demons, and worst of all, becomes a penniless beggar. When the supposed “protagonist” of these prophecies enrolls at the academy, he realizes his countdown to ruin has begun. Now he must use his foresight to rewrite a story where he's cast as a third-rate villain, all while navigating ancient dungeons, demonic threats, and the troublesome “hero” who might be the key to changing his fate.#MoneyIsEverything

Yu Xiaotong’s new novel “Fate's Little Feral Consort”. She was a world-famous miracle doctor in the 21st century. If The King of Hell wanted a person to die at mid-day, she would only let that person die in the evening. After going back in time, her soul was now in the body of a cowardly and incompetent lady of Eternal Peace Marquis’s Residence. On her wedding day, she was sent to the bandits by her fiance. Immediately, she gave the useless man a letter of divorce.

Get lost! Vicious stepmother, hypocritical stepsister, cruel father; all of them wanting her life. She has her own Spirit Beast, she could refine elixir pills; she could even effortlessly master new skills. But why did the handsome and domineering ninth imperial uncle entangle her when she was dealing with those hateful scum? She looked back and sneered, “is our relationship that good?”. The man narrowed his eyes and looked as fierce as a beast, “I’ve already held you and kissed you. Do we have to be in bed together? ”

I am Stephen, assistant to Vegapunk. After transmigrated to the One Piece world and failing in the attempt to take down Imu in collaboration with the Revolutionary Army, I unexpectedly found myself transmigrated again, this time to the Pokémon world.Although my body has become smaller, my mind remains as sharp as ever. My current identity is:The Chief Pokémon Professor of the Pokémon LeagueA mind 500 years ahead of its timeExecutive Vice-Leader of Team RocketThe second Master-level Trainer after Professor RowanThe benefactor recognized by Rayquaza as its successorHonorary Chairman of the Alola LeagueSupreme Commander of Dark Pokémon!

“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.