MTL - Dragon-Blooded War God - v2 Chapter 108 Red Yan Jin Beast!

# consume

Lu Yu, a foodie, transmigrated to a parallel world where all living beings on Earth had awakened to superpowers.

Fearsome Beasts rampaged everywhere and the lives of mankind were threatened.

When they came of age, youths would awaken their talents at the various martial arts dojos. They would then use their talents to protect their homeland.

Lu Yu awakened the power of Gluttony, an SSS-class talent.

His strength would increase every time he consumed the flesh of Fearsome Beasts. His spiritual soul would grow stronger every time he consumed their cores.

In other words, he was what he ate and he grew stronger by eating.

Apparently, the effect of Gluttony would even intensify when he consumed more high-end raw ingredients and better cooking methods.

As such, he embarked on the journey of becoming stronger through eating.

[Ding! Detected that host has consumed the flesh of a B-class king cobra. Acquired: Attribute of Poison Immunity.]

[Ding! Detected that host has consumed the heart of an A-class firebird. Obtained: Skill of Erupting Lava.]

[Ding! Detected that host has consumed the nerves of an SSS-class white dragon. Acquired: Talent of Endless Rebirth.]

While the others wailed, “The monsters are here! Run!”,

the monsters howled, “Lu Yu is here! Run!”

Lu Yu thought, “Standing at the top of the food chain feels nice!”

In her previous life, Gu Tong was blind to people's true natures, and died unjustly, becoming the number one venomous woman scorned by all.After her rebirth, Gu Tong tore apart her cousin with her bare hands, shattered the mistress on her chest, and stewed the scum in an iron pot, becoming the first Doctor who brought aid to the world; none who owed her could escape.Her happy and perfect new life officially began, and Gu Tong shouted her loud slogan, “Kiss, hug, lift high, husband, let's have a baby, oh yeah.”

“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.

Vincent van Gogh, the painter who refused to be an accessory Of power and painted with his soul at the tip of a brush, was not understood by anyone and had to die like a madman, and he woke up in 21st century Korea.

Like a wheat field melted with gold, like a sunflower that swallowed the sun, a dazzling painter once again takes the brush.