Transmigrated Into the World of Magic and Swords - Chapter 251: First Kiss With Zaria

On Christmas day, seemingly overnight, God summoned everyone on Earth, giving every single person a 'Gift' along with a System.

These Gifts, synonimous with special abilities granted people powers beyond comprehension.

However, with these abilities came tragedy that enveloped the world. The Apocalypse!

Jeremy Lewis, a reclusive loner, is mysteriously exempt from this phenomenon and finds himself being the only one without a Gift.

God decides to grant him the last Gift available, [Subspace], and forcefully returns him to a world that has become hell.

Horrifying monsters now lurk around every corner, and inevitable death awaits.

Arming himself with his wits and the Gift he possesses, how will Jeremy survive this cruel new world that he finds himself in?

“Everything will go according to plan, and ultimately the path I have started will lead to my victory... these tools will be useful in achieving that!”

In an unfortunate twist of fate, Adrian, a man from the 21st century, is accidentally killed by the Goddess of Fate. As recompense for her mistake, she grants Adrian a second chance at life in an alternate world. Upon awakening, Adrian is startled to find himself surrounded by a setting reminiscent of eighteenth-century Europe. It quickly becomes apparent to him that he has been reincarnated as none other than Napoleon Bonaparte, the indomitable figure who once ruled over Europe for two tumultuous decades.

Disclaimer:

This work of fiction explores a speculative narrative in which the protagonist is reborn as Napoleon Bonaparte and embarks on a journey to power, encountering both historical and fictional characters. While the story draws inspiration from the life and historical context of Napoleon Bonaparte, it is important to note that the events, interactions, and outcomes portrayed in this work are entirely fictional and should not be interpreted as a reflection of real historical events.

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“Ji Xiao Li” Chen Yu Bai pressed the body under him and gritted his teeth, “What exactly did I owe you in my past life?”

“I…don’t…know..but you don’t know too? Aren’t you a fortune teller?”

At this instant, even the thousand years ice jade bed under them can feel the chill emitted by this man.

“I am the Grand Tutor! Great Divination Master! Don’t call me a fortune teller!”

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.