BloodStar - Chapter 93: Ancient Chest

Black belly, online IQ

Reborn in the magnificent world of cultivating immortals

Everything is based on ‘stability’, and everything is settled before moving, and when moving, there is a thunderbolt, and after moving, there is no sound.

Hidden cards, refining elixir, practicing escape, and practicing spells.

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- Description from novelbuddy

In her third year living in this steampunk world, Ciel gained the ability to simulate both the past and the future.These simulations turned into a game where she could act without restraint, and after countless trials, real life became a replica she could navigate as though speedrunning it.Churches, potions, mutations, the Old Gods, witches, sealed artifacts… none of these have anything to do with Ciel. She’s just an ordinary girl who wishes for a peaceful life.She just happens to be particularly skilled at snuffing out danger before it even begins.

22nd Century. An era hailed as the Age of Advancement and Peace.And for the better half of the century, it was an era where humanity lived side by side with alien races, their united empire ever expanding and flourishing.But the peace that everyone thought would last forever was taken by the very people who swore to keep it.The entire galaxy was plunged into war, a conflict fueled by the insatiable greed of those at the top, hidden behind the age-old lie that the enemy wished to destroy them.Vlad Igor was just another nameless soldier in the galactic war, a conflict that stripped him of everything he held dear, first his peace and then his family.When he thought the senseless war was over, their rulers betrayed him once more, taking away his hope.Vlad died, and as Darkness engulfed his senses, he thought he could finally rest, but fate had other plans for him.Sent back in time, Vlad found himself in the beginning of when everything began, when the first embers of the great war were just beginning to ignite, shaping the future that took everything from him.Vlad could now enter the world of Ascension and, with his knowledge and experience, amass power and influence that could possibly prevent the war.But can Vlad, a lone man, stand against the Titans who rule hundreds of stars, command billions, and will stop at nothing, pay any price, to keep their grip on power?

“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.