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... nished collecting his things and entered the classroom, he immediately saw Itachi, who was on the verge of erupting and forcing himself to endure.

Because a group of precocious little girls was surrounding Itachi, fighting to get close to him.

This scene could only be described as attracting bees and butterflies, crazy!

After all, this good skin of Itachi was still very lethal to this group of girls who were infatuated with him.

Aoba felt very funny and withdrew h ...

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[Would you like to be one of the nine demon kings of this world]

[If so what are you willing to sacrifice?]

In the heat of the moment, Damien made a deal with the world, that he would give up everything he owns, or do anything it wants, and in exchange, he shall be reborn as a new Demon King, and what the world required from him as payment was.

[In exchange for power, become a slave of the world, and act as an anti-body for all eternity]

At that moment, Damien agreed, but little did Damien know, that becoming a slave to the world meant he has to be its immune system, what that entail is, that anything that threaten the world must be destroyed even if he has to wipe out humanity, to save it, or assassinate historical figures to bring fort balance or even manipulating events that can potentially end the world, to save the world, this is the story of a necessary evil, not the story of a hero who cares for others.

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“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.