Star Rank Hunter - Chapter 87: Debt Settlement

What does it feel like when you have a best-selling detective fiction author for a boyfriend?

Whenever you offend him, he would look at you disdainfully, “A character molded after you could only ever appear in my novel as a deceased victim.”

Whenever you seriously offend him, he would threaten you, “The very next victim who dies in my novel would be named after you.”

Whenever you seriously, seriously offend him, he would add on to the previous threats, “Furthermore, the victim would have died at the hands of an extremely perverse and twisted serial killer, and would have suffered an extremely painful and terrible death.”

But, by a stroke of coincidence, if you happen to be this best-selling author’s editor, he need not resort to the above mentioned tactics. In fact, all he has to do is one, single thing –
-Delay the submission of his draft.

- Description from Novelupdates

“You slut! You cheated on me! I want a divorce!”

“Do it willingly, or I will expose your shameless acts to the public!”

“How could you sleep with another man, Shen Yin? How could you betray your husband?”

Caught cheating by her husband, best friend, and mother-in-law, Shen Yin wanted to explain herself but could not.

She had never expected that her surprise for her husband would go so wrong.

However, when she returned home to find her husband and her best friend in bed, she realized that it was just their ploy!

Signing the divorce papers, Shen Yin left with resolve, and made a grand return five years later as a beautiful forensic doctor with a son, here to torture scum and to woo new lovers! One day, her child whistled at a man with a Maserati, saying, “You don’t have to wait for my mom, sir. She’s gone to register her marriage!”

The man alighted and picked him up, growling, “I’m your father. Address me as such!”

However, the man was jealous…

Who was Shen Yin marrying when her baby daddy was right here?!

Gritting his teeth and dashing to the civil office, he scooped Shen Yin and threw her over his shoulder as he carried her away, smacking her painfully on the butt as he did.

“You’ve gotten bold… but don’t think you can marry anyone else behind my back! I’ll straighten you out tonight, in bed!”

Traversing into a Fantasy World, Watson became the youngest son of a run-down baron, ranked eight in the family.

“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.