Counterattack of the Cannon Fodder Chambermaid - Chapter 525

She was the godly thief of the 24th century, yet she was reincarnated as a good-for-nothing idiot with no parents. Not only that, she had to bend her will according to her relatives’ mood. Idiot? Trash? Very well, sooner or later, she will show these group of silly earthlings what it means to be too late for regrets!

Battle-qi? Magic? Her talent on both magic and martial arts will mortify every genius in existence. The position of the clan chief? The mythological Vermilion Bird? Want them? So sorry~ She already took them!

But who will tell her, that the cute boy who gets carsick easily was really the mythological Vermilion Bird? Then, what about the elder that’s residing in her body, just which deity does that mysterious soul belong to? Furthermore……

Why was it that other people’s companion were those kind of domineering, and incomparably mighty type. Why was it the ones around her were either an evil merchant or a sly fox, a useless nerd or a playboy, the worst is this sick pretty boy! What happened to ruling the world, and standing above all else? Please don’t f*ck with me!

- Description from novelupdates

In a world ruled by the Heavens, cultivators must form a Heaven’s Pact to gain power—except Lin Feng. Born with a Broken Soul, he is cast out as cursed and powerless.Everything changes when he discovers an ancient altar and meets the Usurper, who grants him the System—a forbidden technique that allows him to steal fragments of others’ Heaven’s Pacts.With each stolen fragment, he edges closer to uncovering the truth of this world, but defying the Heavens brings trials and tribulations.Will he topple the very Heavens themselves, or will he be crushed under their divine wrath?

When Peter is transported to a brutal system-driven world, where stats, skills, and paths to power are granted upon turning eighteen... He gets nothing.Thrown into a military training regime where the weak are discarded and the strong survive, Peter should have been erased.Alongside Thea, a fierce warrior, and Elric a determined healer, Peter claws his way forward. Creating and rediscovering the secrets of Cultivation and World Force.But as he defies the rules of the world, the world starts to notice.

“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.