Only God - Chapter 54 - 50: The Succession of King Yarlessto

Imagine waking up in a world where Pokemon and reality are one and the same.You’re holding a strange Gameboy in your hands, and soon you realize: everything you acquire in-game can materialize in real life.Sounds impossible? Think again.Need funds to raise your team? With a few Zigzagoon and their Pickup ability, I’m making a steady million Pokedollars each month just from found items.And if memory serves, wasn’t there a Master Ball lying around in Team Aqua’s hideout...?A few years later at the World Pokemon Tournament...Champions: “Where on earth did he get a shiny Rayquaza?”This is a TL

A kind girl falls in love with a vicious killer. Unhinged Yuri story set in Seoul.------“Like a prey waiting with a trap, I missed my predator.I missed her touch in the places I’ve never been touched.I wanted to hear her sing the songs that I’ve never heard.”------As the blood dripped off the knife she held firmly in her pale hand, I saw my reflection in the cold blade that had just taken the life of a man.I dreamed of magical moments like this every day.Something - someone to come and free me from the suffocating monotony of normalcy.She stormed into my life brandishing death, and in the moment of madness, my heart fluttered.Then she came to my place, uninvited. I treated her wounds and fed her. She slept on my couch like a cat. We started our lives together. Death bound us like the knot of tie I fixed for her as she left for work - to kill, kill, and to kill again.I spent countless nights sitting in darkness, on my couch hugging my knees, gripped with worry and excitement. I prayed for her safe return home, but I did not pray for the souls she’d be sending to hell.But she always returned, like a stray cat coming for food in the back alley behind a restaurant. I was the cook who put out the food for her, stroked her, and gave her shelter.A stray cat. A great feline predator. She was mine and mine alone.Together we laughed, alone I cried.Together we laughed, alone I cried.But I think we also loved.I think.------This is a dark and twisted psychological slice-of-life romantic comedy with a sprinkle of inspiration from the noir genre. If that doesn’t make sense, it’s because it doesn’t.

In 2036, humankind steps foot on Mars for the first time.

“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.