Instant Death - Chapter 17 - I don’t know what will happen if I kill space

What does it feel like when you have a best-selling detective fiction author for a boyfriend?

Whenever you offend him, he would look at you disdainfully, “A character molded after you could only ever appear in my novel as a deceased victim.”

Whenever you seriously offend him, he would threaten you, “The very next victim who dies in my novel would be named after you.”

Whenever you seriously, seriously offend him, he would add on to the previous threats, “Furthermore, the victim would have died at the hands of an extremely perverse and twisted serial killer, and would have suffered an extremely painful and terrible death.”

But, by a stroke of coincidence, if you happen to be this best-selling author’s editor, he need not resort to the above mentioned tactics. In fact, all he has to do is one, single thing –
-Delay the submission of his draft.

- Description from Novelupdates

[1V1 easy read, a pampered romance] Time-traveled straight into a wedding, does it have to be this intense?“Hey, hold on, groom, I'm not your bride!”Su Pan'er fiercely resisted.Someone chuckled craftily, “Quit messing around, my dear wife!”This story is fantasy, don't compare it with actual historical context. Recommended another novel by Dou Dou: “Joy of Being a Mother in a Farmhouse”.

Transmigrating into the novel, [The Emperor of Luck] Gu Xia received the despair villain system and became a small villain who is destined to be face slapped by the protagonist then eventually killed.

Having been through the plot thousands of times and being failed by the system every time, he finally snapped.

“System! What did I do wrong this time!?”

[Host, please calm down... There has been an error in the world that I have no control over. As an apology I can grant you extra rewards once you complete the plot!]

Gritting his teeth and having bloodshot red eyes Gu Xia finally had enough.

[I quit being the villain! Fuck the plot, fuck the heroine's, fuck the protagonist, fuck everyone, I just want to live my life without being face slapped! I QUIT!]

Unknowing to him all of the heroines could now hear his inner voice…

“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.