Transmigrated as the Novel's Final Boss - Chapter 1 - : The Prologue [1]

This a Naruto AU.

Everything has to be studied to understand its meaning, Chiba Shiraishi realized that when he had transmigrated to a new world he has no knowledge of, he only knew he was in the village of Konoha.

Shiraishi couldn’t sleep, so he took out the book he had picked up “The Will of Fire” and read it carefully in the middle of the night, only to see the words in cracks.

The whole book was written with two words – Pyramid Scheme.

Shiraishi felt hesitant and fearful for a iwhile, and he decided that sooner or later, he must escape from this brainwashing organization called Konoha.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or this fic.

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In a world transformed by dungeon gates and awakened classes, Hunters fight monsters to earn power, fame, and fortune.Frank? He awakened as a Trader. F-Rank.No spells. No sword skills. Just one system window… and 500 dimensional tokens.Everyone laughed. Told him to quit. But Frank didn’t need fireballs—he had something better:『Dimensional Trading System Online』Connects to other worlds. One trade per day. Limited inventory. Unlimited potential.He sold candy to bug warriors. Swapped solar chargers for alchemy potions. Bought a sword technique with instant delivery.Then, he opened a booth beside a dungeon gate… and started outselling real vendors.Now, the same Hunters who mocked him line up to buy.Guild-backed merchants want him gone.And Frank? He’s just getting started.He’s not hiding. He’s not cheating.He’s building a business—and a blade arm to match.When monsters strike, Frank fights beside his customers.When dungeon loot drops, he flips it across worlds.From a broke rookie to a cross-realm powerhouse, Frank isn’t just surviving—he’s becoming the most dangerous F-Rank in the business.

Oscar, a destitute young boy, died in a tragic accident and was reborn in the forgotten realm. As a member of the lowly Birch tribe, his solace comes from the fragments of a guardian's spirit, residing in his soul. After the decimation of his family in the hands of a powerful race known as the dreads, he embarked on the part of revenge, leading him to the path of transcendence.

“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.