MTL - Martial Arts Master - Chapter 663 acquaintance

The salted fish youth Qin Yan, after experiencing a variety of virtual games, finally opened his own lucky road in the abyss game.

A pair of red high heels, from the puzzle of the abyss game producer.

Zeng was obsessed with joining the great forces, and ushered in a new life after leaving.

On the big stage to show his strength to the world, Qin Yan and his partners will eventually bloom …

- Description from Qidian

“Want to know the meaning of life? Want to live… a real life?” The world changes when you click YES. In God’s dimension, you have to keep getting stronger, keep evolving to survive one horror movie after another. Do you kill everyone in your way to reach the end as a lone king? Or fight along with your comrades and survive through the support of friends? Everything was just for staying alive. Until you find the secret of God’s dimension. Who is the real enemy?

WSA 2025 ENTRYIn the Grand Land of Baltalaha, the Awakening Ceremony is the most anticipated event of the year, where 15-year-olds from across the kingdoms discover their innate powers. Morvane, an orphan raised by a healer grandmother, eagerly joins the celebration with his best friends, Luna and Esmael, each dreaming of the abilities that will shape their destinies.As rulers from the six kingdoms display their awe-inspiring powers, the arena buzzes with excitement and wonder. One by one, children receive marks signifying their newfound abilities, the crowd erupting in cheers with each display of elemental magic, healing, and unique gifts.However, when it’s Morvane’s turn, silence falls over the arena. No mark appears on his shoulder. Confusion ripples through the crowd, and Morvane’s heart sinks. In a moment meant to define his future, he faces an unimaginable question: What does it mean to have no power in a world where everyone else awakens?Unbeknownst to all, Morvane’s fate is tied to a mystery that could reshape the balance of Baltalaha forever.

“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.