Bitcoin Billionaire: I Regressed to Invest in the First Bitcoin! - Chapter 80: Collision

Lin Luoran is a 27-year-old girl from a rural family. She doesn’t have a college degree, let alone any money.

After cheated by her boyfriend, Lin Luoran accidently finds a mysterious space in her heirloom. At first, she only tries to use the magical spring water in that space to grow medicines like ginseng to help out her family. However, Lin Luoran never thought that she would become the last female cultivator in the world.

The family of cultivators have not been seen on earth for thousands of years. Lin Luoran strives to cultivate herself in the metropolis, to complete her first-ever journey to immortality.

As for love… What will happen to Lin Luoran, a girl that is so different? Let’s open the book and find out.

“I’m a warrior from the alternate universe.”“The Goddess summoned me to this world to defeat the Devil that has imperiled the world and to restore peace to the world.”“I understand that it’s my cardinal duty. Since I’ve been summoned to become a Warrior, I’ll do my best to beat my opponent even if he’s the almighty Devil.”“Don’t ask me why. That’s what the book says.”“But… isn’t this development straying from the plot?!”This is the beginning of a scam in an alternate universe. It is also the story of a warrior with a mission to defeat the Devil. At the end, he realized that he had been duped instead.

He is powerful, aloof, and selfish, but he has a hobby of renting a venue solely to listen to her play the pipa. His friends were curious and asked him why. He said, “She's beautiful.” Thus, the pipa player became his girlfriend.[Highlight 1]Brought up under strict parenting, his family pays great attention to his conduct. Yet, he was known for his vigorous actions, from breaking family rules that garnered media attention to recklessly manipulating the venture capital market. Consequently, he was sent to a temple to copy Buddhist scriptures as punishment. Obediently, he did so, but his pages were filled with nothing but her name.[Highlight 2]Gazing into her eyes as she lay in his arms, he asked, “Have you ever been afraid of being with me?” Of course, she did. He was a tycoon who possessed the world and would not easily fall deeply in love with her.On the day they broke up, everyone knew and was surprised.She packed her suitcase and left the city, saying, “Since he said he would never marry me, I shall return him to the world.”[Highlight 3]Three years after their breakup, they met again at an international financial summit. He had become the head of the family. His suit was well tailored, with silver-rimmed glasses resting on a tall nose bridge, exuding undeniable charm.Encountering each other at a corner, she fled, and he pursued...

“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.