The Genesis Of A Necromancer - Chapter 10: The lady of the church

There are three good things about Master Mu: good marksmanship, good skills, and good wives!

It’s 2100, and Vincent Carter – Ying – is a twenty-year-old virgin with a penchant for profanity, he has but three guiding principles:“In a world where honour and valour seem like unaffordable luxuries, cowardice remains the pragmatist’s ultimate virtue. Spinelessness isn’t shameful, it’s simply self-preservative romance.”“Doubt is unironically the cheapest superpower a person can have, after all if it’s human, it’s probably plotting something. And if it’s plotting something, it’s probably hiding something. And if it’s hiding something… well, you get the idea. So question everything, one sceptical step at a time.”And lastly,“Muscle heads – because who needs brains when you can just flex your way through life? Couldn’t be me, I’ll tell you that much.”Armed with nothing but these… questionable (?) values, as well as experiences shaped by a hellish life in the slums, Ying dives headfirst into the latest VR sensation – Cultivation Climax, a world brimming with great magic, ancient mysteries, and blood-curdling conspiracies just waiting to be unravelled.However, because Ying’s life is just that kind of special, he is greeted with a rather ‘lovely’ surprise upon opening his eyes to the new world…Ding![Your misfortune is truly astounding!][You have awakened the absolute WORST talent for Cultivation!]‘…’“…W-what?!”Yes, what indeed.

Euri was quite passionate about wanting to become a perfect corporate slave.But after being forced to explore the sentient game infesting his miniscreen, Euri realized that he had stumbled upon an opportunity anyone on the planet would kill for. While the entire human civilization on Planet Nen struggled to deal with the superior lifeforms plaguing the extraterrestrial planes beyond their world, Euri could compete with them all for power by just playing this game!A side-gig that didn’t conflict with his dream of climbing the corporate ladder—how generous can fortune be to bequeath this opportunity to him.Transcending the spatial laws, transcending human notion of cultivation, transcending the rules of Cosmic Development Bureau, Euri began a series of crazy experiments that could perhaps destroy the millennia-spanning schemes of the most advanced civilizations controlling the macrocosm.When interrogated about this fiasco, Euri answered the way a perfect corporate slave should. “Full credit for this goes to my boss, who provided me with the opportunity...”

“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.