Primordial God Of Time - Chapter 115: Kranos... Kathryn...

In a quiet corner of the world, the mortal delight you indulged for me is my most romantic of my eternity.

A never-isolated city I received, a mini forever I shall return.

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“Gifting You With a City That Will Never Be Isolated details the romance between an awkward, quiet, introverted and socially handicapped female lead and a good-natured and sweet male lead.

Their romance, in fact, is a steady stream that flows unnoticed slow if one doesn’t pay attention.

This novel isn’t the most exciting, nor the most captivating – but it’s a sweet, lovely novel detailing the sweet and ordinary love between two common folks, and perhaps best expresses what healthy, ordinary relationships should aim to be like. It’s a story about growth, about trust, and about how a healthy relationship can really help one to change for the better.”

- Description from Novelupdates

His fiancée, whom he had never met, had just broken off their engagement. He's then betrayed by his girlfriend and schemed against by her lover.His mother's legacy awakens him. No longer content with mediocrity, he transforms into a dragon overnight.

I was left paralyzed with only a month to live, but that “9-inch” part of me was still hard as a rock. Even the sickly beautiful schoolgirl couldn't resist my “pecker,” and to fulfill my dying wish, my sister even dressed up as a lady in black stockings to teach me how to “drill.” What's more outrageous, the hospital nurses wanted to make a little movie with me, lining up with the head nurse at the front...Just after coming out of the emergency room, I saw the system panel:Name: Ethan JonesGender: MaleLength: 9 inchesSkill: Hard as a Rock LV1Note: Peak human hardnessDying Wish: To caress auntie's sheer black stockingsTask Reward Points: 1000 pointsDespite my strength and stamina attributes being only at 1, and my agility at 0, only my “pecker” could lift the heavy blanket while doing squats. My face was full of question marks—what kind of bug is this system? Just because I like looking at auntie's legs, did it give me such a special skill?Now, I have no choice. I must complete tasks to earn points and add attribute points.However, the story actually begins 12 hours earlier...

“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.