MTL - This Uchiha is Too Cautious - Chapter 8 ?7 sauce or disaster star

“You wouldn't force me, would you? I thought you hated me,” I plead.“I do,” Matthew hisses, his eyes flashing dangerously as he rips open my dress.Sarah Wilson's dreams of a perfect marriage shatter as Matthew's hatred for her is revealed on their wedding night. She had always loved him in secret, but now she realizes the ultimate truth - he despises her.Will Matthew ever see past his bitterness and realize they are meant to be together? Or will he make Sarah suffer until death finally separates them?

Li Dai Lu was born and raised Canadian in her first life. This meant that she was taught how to share, how to put others first and to keep the peace as much as she could.

However, that all backfired in a spectacular way.

Reborn in a new time and place, Li Dai Lu did her best to protect all those that she could from the zombies that were wiping out the human race. Unfortunately for her, those she rescued were not as grateful as they should have been.

Killed by the very people she saved, she held her breath and waited for the calm, peacefulness of death.

But the Fates were not too accommodating and our heroine woke up in her third life a year before the zombie apocalypse.

This time she would live life on her own terms and to those that disagreed... well, she would have a few words for them.

Warning: This will turn into a reverse harem where she does not have to pick. Please be aware.

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Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .

Once, I really wanted to hang out at Hogwarts, living a life of eating and dying, picking up girls, provoking professors, and violating school rules to find excitement.

If you’re in a bad mood, beat Voldemort; if you’re in a good mood, beat Voldemort; if you’re in a bad mood, sorry, Voldemort, I’ll beat you anyway!

Dumbledore, do you need me to twist your nose back for you, although it will hurt a bit.

Professor Snape, you are a good person, um, I said this very seriously.

Others, don’t mind me summarizing you with an ellipsis?

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Later, I grew up…

Then, I can’t find a way back anymore…

I would like to write this article to commemorate me or our lost youth. I think of running under the sunset that day…

Produced by melon seeds, it is absolutely finished!

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.