MTL - RPG - Chapter 63 Set sixty three

The person who was locked away inside the thorn-covered tower was not a princess, but a witch who employed the powers of darkness.

A brave young hero came searching for the tower in order to kill the witch.

– Light would force the darkness to recede, and grant it eternal rest

The witch wished.

That things would end with, ‘and the hero lived happily ever after killing the witch,’ like in the fairy tales.

And so, she had devised everything to happen in accordance to her wishes.

But the boy, who had grown up in but no time at all, would make the unfamiliar face of man’s from time to time.

“You want me to kill you? ……Do you really think I’ll let you go?”

Reality was very different from the fairy tales.

“The people don’t know of the precious treasure locked away in the tower.

I won’t let anyone else have this god given treasure, this crown of god surrounded by thorns that no one else could recognize.”

The hero gave the witch a slow and deep kiss.

“I am the true victor, and no one else.”

In the God Domain, Cultivators were far and few between, but each of them wielded power that would make them known as gods.

How did they come to have such power? They comprehended the laws between heaven and earth and became those very laws.

But something occurred, a youth that hadn’t gained the acknowledgment of the heavens to become a cultivator chance upon Qi. Determined to reverse the bad hand faith had dealt him he started researching it and came to a shocking conclusion. The very laws that the heavens prevented him from comprehending were swirling around in this strange energy!

The youth thought to himself that if he could somehow control it, then he could defy the heavens and become a cultivator. Without any hesitation he began researching more and found out that the only way to control this newfound energy was to absorb it within his body.

After many years of preparations, he did exactly that.

However, he promptly died from the finger size strand he absorbed.

Ten years after his death a cultivator found his research journal and decided to further study this fascinating idea.

Skip forward to an unknown period in the future and a baby was born into a powerful royal family as the second prince. Upon his birth this child had the laws of heaven and earth swirling around him. This immediately sent the royal court into a stir as they thought the heavens themselves had blessed the Emperor’s second son.

But as that was happening, the baby that had just been born saw the midwife use a spell to turn Qi into water to clean him.

Upon seeing this, the baby’s eyes widen into saucers as a voice screamed hysterically in his head, “W-WHO THE FUCK STOLE MY IDEA?!”

“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.

The era of mutations and survival!Can Jeremy Night become the hope of the Human Alliance?