My Hermes System - Chapter 202 - 202: Buried

After suddenly dying while trying to meet a deadline, Gu Huai transmigrated and became a non-human race.

This race is cruel and cold, making them feared and shunned by everyone in the interstellar world.

As the new king of the race and facing the group of parents who see him as a baby, Gu Huai said he was under a lot of pressure.

- Description from Novelupdates

Luo Hong was standing in front of the mountain gate of Huangfeng Valley. At this moment, he had to admit the fact that he had traveled to “Mortal”.

Pushing the glasses that no longer existed, Luo Hong said categorically, “Like Old Devil Han, I am a fourth-grade pseudo-spiritual root, but I don’t have a vial. It seems that the only way I can go is to cultivate immortals scientifically!”

Why is there a bottleneck every fourth floor during the gas refining period?

How to maximize the chance of building a foundation?

How many factors affect the speed of cultivation?

How fast is Old Devil Han running?

When cultivating immortals in this world is an objective fact, then science is cultivating immortals, and cultivating immortals is science!

Deduction group: 607277622, ​​come and play, Mr. Shitu has already moved in.

- Description from novelbuddy

With the booming age of the internet, livestreaming is already a prevalent career all over the world. With people proving that money could be earned here, a lot of people jumped into it, gaining fame and wealth.Jay is a struggling 21 years old college student who dreams about becoming a livestreamer. Unfortunately, Jay don't have any talent beside his slightly handsome face. Because of that, it was hard for him to even have some viewers.But by a miracle, Jay gained the ownership of the Cube, changing his life all the way by doing all kinds of achievements![Congratulations, you completed the achievement 'Sing to your viewers in your live stream.'][You acquired the skill 'Singing' level 1.][You acquired 5,000 pesos.]...Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

“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.