Picking Up Beautiful Girls In The Post-Apocalyptic World! - Chapter 23

For eighteen long years, Jon fought a relentless battle against a terminal illness, confined to a hospital bed and in the constant shadow of death. However, fate had much bigger plans for him.The destiny of a God-Emperor promised by ancient and mysterious prophecies.Chosen as the Messiah by an Omnipotent and Omniscient God, Jon is thrown into a world on the brink of a devastating war, where his decisions will determine whether humanity perishes or has the chance to continue existing.Facing the terrible army of the undead and raised as a bastard in Winterfell despite his noble origins, Jon must quickly strengthen himself for the final battle that will decide the fate of civilization.But his path to the Iron Throne is full of challenges: as well as defeating supernatural enemies, he will have to face a treacherous politics, where kind words hide dark and deadly intentions.The fate of all human civilization rests on his shoulders.(Elements of Game Of Thrones/Dune/Warhammer)*Harem: Three wives and a mistress*Netorare or Netori: Absolutely NOT*Yuri: No.*R-18: Yes.*Gore: Yes.The Chronicles of Ice and Fire.

In a world where summoners wield the power to call forth vampires, elves, angels, demons, and all humanoid creatures from across the realms, Nathan found himself unable to summon beings except from beasts. However, those beasts are not ordinary beasts. They are divine beings who once stood at the same level, if not higher, than the legendary creatures the world ever knew. Casting his gaze to the left, Nathan sees numerous summoners accompanied by the likes of demon kings, archangels, vampire progenitors, and other legendary beings. Turning to the right, a massive army of alien symbiotes is waiting to attack. There was no fear in his eyes, because standing on his left is a majestic wolf who managed to kill a god, the legendary eight-headed serpent coils on his right, above him is the bird who is glowing like the sun, and behind him is a dragon that once gnawed the roots of the world tree. “Let the war begin.”

He is an undead who is devoid of all humanity, he is the one and only supreme overlord, he is a man who has severe mysophobia.

“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.