My Cultivation Starting from Archery - Chapter 712 - 224: Striving for the World_4

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?

………………

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

This book is about how a famous web writer who specializes in doting genre falls in love with a Mr. cellophane writer who specializes in angst genre.

- Description from Novelupdates

She is not a weak nor submissive type of woman. She is Dominant! A female alpha, the rarest of her kind, who could match up the strength of the most powerful creature, the Vampire King.

As the war between the two races continues, the Alpha Princess falls for the Vampire King. Their fated bond will be tested by their past and origins. Will the two be able to break the loop of revenge and hatred between their clans?

Bound by blood and revenge, can love set them free?

*****

Excerpt:

“You. Are. Not. Going. Anywhere!” His scarlet eyes settled on her face, blazing in a raging fury.

“No way! You just want me for your revenge,” she responded mockingly while meeting his intense gaze. “Just leave me alone!”

In a flash, he closed their gaps, pushing her down on the bed while trapping her in his arms. “I can't... because my kind of revenge means... Trapping you here…” he brought her hand into his chest, pointing to his heart.

“and by enslaving you here… in my bed,” his mouth moved over hers in a sensuous exploration, traveling down her throat to her neck. His hand was already caressing her soft flesh.

“I will get what I want by making you mine!” Before she could complain, a ripping sound was heard as he tore her clothes apart.

“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.