First Demonic Dragon - Chapter 652: Who’ll Be First?

This is an era of national miracles and national adventures.

A gray fog swept the world.

Ghosts, ghosts, ancient gods, extraordinary races, etc., are all over the gray fog.

There are dangers and miracles.

Some items and even creatures invaded by the power of gray fog are called miracles.

Some miracle items can generate ore every day, which is inexhaustible.

Some miracle items can make people stronger even if they lie still every day.

And some, it is possible to create extraordinary warriors in batches.

Bai Ye came through, with a golden finger that could see all the prompts, and got a fire source at the beginning…

- Description from novelbuddy

Dante was an ageless warlock who had been going from one battle to another for hundreds of years.Following a chaotic encounter with an evil god, Dante unintentionally activates a contract with a demon, thrusting him into the modern world.Resolved to live a peaceful life, his intentions are halted when he finds himself in the middle of a conflict among rival mafia factions—dabbling with the ominous demonic magic that he knows best.

The ‘meddlesome’ high school student Mamori Suzufumi helps a starving neighbor who had collapsed in the apartment next door by some chance.That person turned out to be the popular high school idol, Sasaki Yuzuki!Yuzuki had been on an excessive diet to maintain her ideal idol image.But when the worried Suzufumi serves her homemade cooking, she eats it with a face full of happiness while screaming,「——Aaaaaah… I can’t take it anymore!」With a face full of happiness, she finished her meal.Falling in love with her hearty appetite, Suzufumi decides to tempt Yuzuki with her favorite foods to make her fall for him through ‘food seduction.’Pork bowl, ramen, okonomiyaki——「I definitely won’t eat it!」That’s what Yuzuki says, but once again, she finds herself craving Suzufumi’s cooking today──

“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.