The Spare's Second Chance in Apocalypse - Chapter 259: Ch 258: You’re a guest- Part 2

The mentally disabled 13 year old daughter of the Ye family, one day re-births! She rules over the Omnipotent God’s Cauldron, she possesses a spirit cultivation space. She’s no longer the good-for-nothing, abandoned girl who everyone bullies whenever they see her! With her incomparable poisons, even miracle doctors have to move to the side.

50,000 years ago, Hell was destroyed because of too much Foul from the resentment of the souls that later turned to Soul Eaters and devoured everything in their wake, leaving nothing of Hell. The gods above in Heaven, in order to take care of the newly-died souls, created the Afterlife Department comprised of grim reapers.

Huo Ling was delivering food that day when he met Yi Bing and the guy gave him a warning. When he arrived to the customer's unit, he was killed.

Huo Ling: you set up a death flag for me!

Yi Bing: I'm a grim reaper. I'm the flag myself. Let me help you solve the mystery of your death.

Huo Ling: your sister!

Alternative title: The Different Ways I Died at 23

Update: daily

Hua Rong never expected to find herself in Blackthorn Academy, a notorious school created by the government to reform the most troublesome, undisciplined, and delinquent students. A place where chaos rules, fights break out daily, and the teachers have long given up.But Hua Rong doesn’t belong here. She’s determined to escape and return to her prestigious former school—by playing their game. The only way out? Earn enough points through perfect discipline. No fights. No trouble. No mistakes.Sounds easy, right?Except her new classmates are ruthless, the rules are stacked against her, and one particularly dangerous, devil-may-care boy seems hell-bent on making sure she never gets out. Xu Lingwei, whom she once rejected without a second thought. The boy who now stands at the top of Blackthorn’s unspoken hierarchy— holding a grudge.Under the second moon of fate, is this her second chance to make things right? Or will he be the reason she never escapes?.

“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.