MTL - You Call This the Black Man Behind the Scenes? - Chapter 81 Cousin Fude (2)

Ethan finds himself mysteriously transported to another world, where the strong reign and the weak perish.Welcomed by a kind farmer who decides to help him upon seeing his poor condition, Ethan begins to hope for a new life.However, his dream is shattered when an acquaintance deceives him, leading to his sale at the slave market. Desperate and confused, Ethan wonders what he has done to deserve all this.“Which deity have I offended to deserve all this?”Just when he thinks all is lost, fate has another surprise in store for him, once again changing the course of his destiny.

A soul named Wu Ling Feng transferred into a male magician character in DNF, that very moment Devil King’s journey officially began…

Enemies magic needs to be chanted, his doesn’t require such, it’s instantaneous magic. His second skill actually allows him to summon permanent dolls, whining Loli dolls, royal sister dolls, whatever he wants…

Loli girl : Onii-chan, don’t do that, it will be painful, ar…

- Description from Novelupdates

When Cheng Qianfan opens his eyes every day, the first reaction in his mind is: What is my identity today (which vest should I wear)?

This book is also known as “Ace Agent: My Vests Are Countless”.

The red ‘flame’ hidden deep inside the enemy, the agile and outstanding member of the red team ‘Chen Zhou’, the favorite general of the military commander Dai Chunfeng, the blue bird… and so on.

However, he knew that he was Cheng Qianfan, a staunch red warrior!

“In the dark, you firmly watch the sun in your heart; in the long night, you silently give birth to the dawn of dawn; in the tiger’s den, you bear the burden of humiliation and wait for the time; in the battle, you rise quietly, killing the enemy invisible; no one knows your name , your feats will be immortal…”

His story begins in the early spring of 1936…

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.