Ferocious Boss: Hubby, Let’s Get Married - Chapter 32 - Because I Can’t Bear To Part With Young Master Yue! 2

What happens when a genderless Artificial Intelligence who is proclaimed as one of the worst in mankind's history travels back in time from the unreachable future to the modern day and makes himself a true living body?

Si Huaixi got bored while playing with zombies in the end times and picked up a novel.

The title of the novel is “Interstellar Heartthrob.” Si Huaixi thought it was a science fiction novel set in a peaceful era. But he had no idea it was about a strange ABO world. The men in it would actually have children?!

The protagonist is a male Omega who can have children !!!

Even more, the protagonist relied on hooking up with various rich and powerful Alphas, finally dominating the interstellar entertainment world.

Si Huaixi wanted to drop the book when he read it, and then he fell !!!

As a result, he became the cannon fodder, a gloomy 18th-line ‘Beta’ starlet, whom the protagonist hated, since his photos were popular on the Internet grabbing the protagonist’s limelight.

How can the cannon fodder who offends the protagonist have a good life?

It wasn’t long until the original owner was drugged and sent to the bed of an investor who enjoyed making short videos. Si Huaixi did not escape the drugging plot after crossing. But, he met a handsome Alpha by chance.

When he woke up the next day. Si Huaixi was surprised to find that the Alpha who spent the night with him was Pei Zhaozhou, the villain in the book!!! Strangely, the book’s villain, Pei Zhaozhou, was not furious. He pinched his eyebrows, smoked a cigarette, and let Si Huaixi go.

He thought the matter would end. But, Pei Zhaozhou suddenly came to the door one day and gave him the medical examination report. “I’m pregnant, and I need the company and comfort of the child’s father because of pheromone disorders,” he said, while slightly narrowing his eyes.

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.

“Hey, Yoshi-kun. I think you’re——”

Hearing that voice for the first time stopped me in my tracks. On my way home from school. On the playing field of our junior high, and at the bookshop in front of the station. And then in the empty lot where the white cat slept. Shiina Yuki, the strange girl who somehow knew all about me, always approached me like that.

We laughed, cried, got angry, held hands. Again and again, we repeated those disappearing memories and ephemeral promises. That’s why I never knew. I never knew the value of Yuki’s smiles or the meaning of her tears. Nor even the singular sentiment behind her many ‘Nice to meet you’s.

This is a captivating, heartrending tale of meetings and partings.