Lord of the Foresaken - Chapter 24: The Butcher’s Gambit

Yeon-woo had a twin brother who disappeared five years ago. One day, a pocket watch left by his brother returned to his possession. Inside, he found a hidden diary in which was recorded “By the time you hear this, I guess I will be already dead….”

Obelisk, the Tower of the Sun God, a world where several universes and dimensions intersect. In this world, his brother had fallen victim to betrayal while climbing up the tower. After learning the truth, Yeon-woo decided to climb the tower along with his brother’s diary.

“From now on, I am Jeong-woo Cha.”

After the college entrance exam, Su Mu, who comes from an ordinary family and works as a waiter in a hotel, accidentally breaks a priceless antique.The exorbitant compensation fee immediately sends Su Mu into a panic.With no other option, he reluctantly calls his father, Su Ruizhi, for help.Su Ruizhi said, “Son, don't panic. Let me tell you the truth. In fact, our family has assets worth billions, and even the luxury hotel where you work belongs to our family!”Ding! [Thirty million has been deposited into your bank account.]Looking at the bank notification on his phone, Su Mu is utterly dumbfounded.'Damn, I had no idea our family is so wealthy!'

His muscles screamed, his body begged for rest, his mind ordered him to stop. But Bakugo couldn't. Not while Izuku hadn't arrived. So, he pushed forward. Every explosion, every strike, every movement was pure determination, a reflection of his unwavering will to win.For a moment, he felt beyond himself. Fast. Precise. Almost invincible.And then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed. The battlefield vanished, and the pain ceased.It was in that moment that Katsuki Bakugo understood... he had died.Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, images or songs featured in this fic. Additionally, I do not claim ownership of any products or properties mentioned in this novel. This work is entirely fanfic.

“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.