MTL - Konoha: Fire Up the Sky - Chapter 22 Met Day

The course of commitments never did run smooth.

After dying on Earth, the King of Mercenaries is reborn as Su Mo in the Firmament and Continent. In this brand-new world, Martial Art is the way of life, and the strong set the rules.

Having awakened a Martial Soul of the lowest rank, possibly meaning he will never go far as a Martial Artist, Su Mo is determined to rise to the top again nonetheless.

However, misfortunes never come singly. The love of his life is soon taken by one of the most powerful forces in the world. With no time to spare, watch as Su Mo overcomes all odds and struggle on the verge of death countless times, in order to meet his love again.

As the protagonist reaches the top in that world, he has to take on more responsibilities and face new challenges.

Follow Su Mo on his relentless journey to become stronger for the sake of those important to him, and uncover the deep, dark secrets and plots in the vast universe.

- Description from Novelupdates

Shu Yu has passed through the book, and has become a poor cannon fodder who was implicated by the dead female supporting role and only appeared twice and was finally exiled for thousands of miles.

After finding that he could not change the result, Shu Yu decided to eat, drink, lie down and wait.

Who knew that the exile had not yet come, but she was suddenly told that she was not the daughter of the Shu family.

Her biological parents were peasant households who lived so hard to make ends meet that their house was leaking.

And the Shu family decided to obliterate her in order to hide her blemish.

Shu Yu: Come on, I can’t kill you.

Returning to his biological parents, Shu Yu finally sighed as he looked at the plate of pickles and a bowl of porridge on the table and placed in front of him, as well as his parents’ nervous and bewildered expressions.

You can’t lie flat, or you’ll starve to death.

“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.

There is an ugly beast that violates women in prison.

A treacherous beast that is feared and called a “Butcher”.

That’s me.

I was once a human but now I can’t even remember my own name.

I can’t speak, and I don’t understand a word they say.

It is in this deep loneliness that I am pouring my essence into the women everyday.

I pour my burning rage into them.

Over and over again, until they conceive.

From morning till night. Until the women’s souls withered.

To show them that I’m an excellent stallion and an obedient domestic animal.

But my soul has not perished yet.

I will break free from this prison soon. And when I do, it will be your last.

Every human who betrayed me, every demon who altered me, I will trample down like an ant.

And it won’t stop until I’m satisfied.

The dawn of the beast is near.