Academy's Drunk Fighter - Chapter 1: Exam ()

After the ‘100-Year War’ between the Necromancers and Priests, an all-time genius who’ll shake the power structure was born. “Am I a rare case or something? Do I have talent?” A potential beyond all imagination. He obtained his father’s undead army and entered the great Necromancer school of Kizen that divided the continent. Geniuses are geniuses, even when gathered among the elites. The research community was flipped on its head by the appearance of a new case. Professors wouldn’t leave him be alone, wanting to make him study directly under them. Officials from all over the kingdom and heads of organizations fidgeted over whether to scout him. “Professor! When can I make a Lich?” “Gimme a break. How talented are you? You’re crossing the line, honestly.” A genius among geniuses had appeared.

My name is Kaelith Yurei , and I am a first-year student at the Shin'ō Academy in the Soul Society. I have a friend who is destined to be quite famous in the Soul Society; his name is Sōsuke Aizen.Unlike this ambitious and idealistic friend, my goals are quite simple: through hard work and diligence, I aim to graduate and become a seated officer in the Gotei 13, from which point I will… I bounded with who!?Whenever Aizen enhances his strength, my power automatically synchronizes to match his level.Therefore, what I need to do from now on is very clear.“Sōsuke, you need to work hard. As long as you put in enough effort, I can live the life I desire!”

Chu Li was a particle physicist until a freak accident took his life and transmigrated him to a parallel universe – one where he wakes up with inexplicable abilities and finds himself in the running for a job in the imperial palace.

This is a story of heroic adventures, cunning strategies and romantic tales. How will our MC thrive in a world completely strange to him? Where will his ambitions and abilities take him in the palace?

“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.