The Assassin's Enemy Lover - Chapter 490

In the year 2057, the world has become a corporate-run utopia for the super-rich, and a hellhole for all the rest. Catherine 'Cat' Leblanc is an orphan that is about as far from super-rich as one can be. When the Incursion alarms start blaring and the sky starts raining hungry xenos, it's just another blemish on an already piss-poor afternoon. A cyberpunk magical-girl alien-invasion LitRPG.It’s exactly as wild as it sounds.

“Can you be useful to me?”

“I… I can be…”

The first time they met, she knelt trembling before him, begging for shelter. The slave caught his interest, and he brought her back to his palace.

She could’ve never imagined that in one night she’d go from a spoiled little slave princess of a defeated kingdom, to becoming a powerful prince’s pet.

He kept her by his side… spoiled her, cared for her, loved her, and gave her meticulous care and high status. Whatever she wished… she could do so under his name.

But, she angered him and chose to run away. He captured her within a day.

“Don’t forget, my little dearest, everything I have given you can be taken back…”

In a spur of anger, she hit him, her feeble hands striking against the flesh of his cheek. Gnashing her teeth in anger, she said, “Do you have the ability to take my child back?!”

- Description from Novelupdates

Raven Astral, a reclusive billionaire known for his unmatched intellect and business sense, finds his world shattered when his beloved younger brother, Weiss, disappears without a trace.

Determined to save his brother, he enters the world of “Hellfire,” an unprecedented and highly immersive game-like world that was also known as the Graveyard of Gods.

Endowed with immense wealth, Raven embarks on an audacious journey into the heart of Hellfire, setting him apart as the wealthiest player to grace the world of Hellfire.

And so, the odyssey of the Wealthiest Ranker commenced—a journey seeped in searing flames of vengeance that would turn the entire realm upside down, reshaping the destiny of all who dwelled within its formidable borders.

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“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.