A Returner’s Magic Should Be Special (WN) - Chapter 245: Reunion (2)

All Ewan Giacometti wants from his wife is a son. But after three years of unhappiness and disillusionment, Athena Moore is ready to leave her ice cold husband. When she finally asks for a divorce, Ewan’s cunny ‘best friend’ frames her, driving her out of the city. Now, Ewan is left to confront his true feelings about his wife, whom he had married under mysterious circumstances, especially when she returns from exile a changed woman.

“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.

Hadica was built around one of five Towers, an infinite structure filled with floors of monsters, magic, and treasures that the city plunders like clockwork. Most of the city, at least. Growing up in Westhill, Micah's family abstained from all of their Tower's bounties. He became an [Alchemist] at an age younger than most and just wanted to level in peace, but soon ran out of mundane ingredients to brew into potions. Ryan is a budding [Fighter] with the strange ability to mimic beasts, including monsters, but he doesn't understand it or even himself. After a Tower climb goes horribly wrong, their lives and the world around them begin to change as they try to figure out who they want to be.The Salamanders is a slow-paced story about characters growing up in and exploring a fantasy setting. It updates sporadically. Please mind the tags.

'Dregs' reborn, aiming for a harmonious marriage, children gathered around the knees, and to beat up the scumbags and promiscuous women!The timid and unlucky her, turned life into a sigh, also causing that person and her children to become tragic figures.Reborn, she wants to engrave strength into her bones!Disasters one after another, difficult to fill the belly?No fear, with our Plant Ability in hand, seeds can turn into rice ears in minutes, and white rice and flour can be made at will!Ungrateful brats?Hmph, the education starts from the womb, determined to make them keep gratitude in their hearts.High-class women unable to give birth want to steal our children?Hehe, the woman rolled up her sleeves and sneered: Those not afraid to die, come and fight!Loyal dog: Wife, how can dirty work like fighting soil your hands? Leave it to me!Little radishes one, two, three, four, five, six all lift sticks: We are here too, we are here too, Mom, we brothers are all on the same vine with you!