Good Evening, Mr President! - Chapter 1663 - : How are you going to find a man?

Humanity has endured for millions of years, but recorded history only spans a mere four thousand years. During that unrecorded deep-sea age, what exactly were we doing?Countless indescribable beings ruled the universe, and our powerful ancestors preserved the fire of human civilization under their threat.Then they disappeared, and we rose.Now, they are coming back, mysterious psychic powers are awakening, the flame of human civilization is slowly extinguishing, and no kings are in sight...Chen Ke opens his eyes to see a world full of ruins and himself on the brink of death.The moment his heart was pierced by the Blasphemous Dagger, he became a dying man without a heart.Able to survive only 2 hours...

What do the words Third-Rate Villain mean?

Doesn't every human being possess their own background story?

Just because a game hadn't explored one's background story, does it mean those characters are irrelevant?

In a world where video games come to life, Astron Natusalune is introduced as a seemingly insignificant character—a third-rate villain with a minor role. However, this ordinary facade belies a haunting past that has shaped Astron into the vengeful soul he has become.

Someone who would do everything for his vengeance.

What will occur if Astron's soul combines with one from Earth? Will he relinquish his position as a third-rate villain, or will he forge a new path?

Driven by a singular purpose—to avenge his sister's tragic death and bring justice to a cruel world—Astron embarks on a transformative journey.

Witness the journey of the Astron as the young boy experiences a profound shift in his own values as he witnesses firsthand the consequences of unchecked vengeance and the true complexities of morality.

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For five years, Kian tried to beat End Realms: Arcadia — a brutal fantasy game no one ever cleared.He knew every quest, every secret, every ending.And yet, after countless failures, he died… with only one regret.Then he woke up — not as a hero, but as Luca Valentine, a useless extra doomed to die in Chapter 3.Now, on his 1,432nd try, he can’t afford to die.But Luca knows the world inside out.He thought he knew the story. But the story may know him better.

“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.