I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun - Chapter 667: Brooklyn (6)

Being abandoned by his very own blood, the world stripped him of everything, his glory, his weapon, his beloved and even his name was taken away. He tried to reclaim what were rightfully his but the people already treated him as an outcast.With nothing left to do, he strode towards the place of no return and as he reached the deepest part by accident, he found a sealed casket with an unusual question engraved on its lid.'If the world's destruction would be put in the palm of your hand, how would it end?'Thousands of choices, hundreds of possibilities, and tens of answers, yet just one of these was certain.“I'll carve it with my enemies' blood,” he uttered underneath the moonless sky.On his hand was a blade made of glass, dripping with a crimson, sticky substance. In an era where war was an everyday occurrence and death was nothing but a mere consequence of being weak, his journey towards the labyrinth of revenge had begun.- - - - -Read at least six chapters and please be prepared to crave the rest. Enjoy Reading!

Jobs, hobbies, lifestyles—the world has advanced to a point where nothing can be separated from VR anymore. And now, a VR game was released using the most cutting-edge technologies; its name was “Boot Hour, Shoot Curse.” Our protagonist had no choice but to play solo during the closed beta test, but once the game officially launched, she made lots of friends (but not necessarily with the players), formed a huge clan (but not a clan of players), and matured as an individual.

This is the story of a crazy lich who possesses an internal game system and brings catastrophe to the entire world.

“Let’s look at the daily quests today… it’s the damned choose one-of-two-options-type again. Destroy a town with a population of 30,000 people or above; reward: 10,000 evil points. Steal lollipops from 3 children; reward: 1 evil point. If neither of the quests is completed, then 2 points will be deducted.”

“Tsk! You think I’m stupid? If I really destroyed a town, a crusade of Epic-ranked Holy Knights would definitely come hunting me down. Even if I earned the points, there wouldn’t be any life left in me to spend them. I better just go be a kindly lollipop bandit.”

I’ve already had enough of being a notorious lich. Who says that a lich can’t be a good person? I’m definitely going to beat this damned system and be an upright and dignified good man.

- 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.