The Harvester - Chapter 417: “My entertainment.”

My name is Kaelith Yurei , and I am a first-year student at the Shin'ō Academy in the Soul Society. I have a friend who is destined to be quite famous in the Soul Society; his name is Sōsuke Aizen.Unlike this ambitious and idealistic friend, my goals are quite simple: through hard work and diligence, I aim to graduate and become a seated officer in the Gotei 13, from which point I will… I bounded with who!?Whenever Aizen enhances his strength, my power automatically synchronizes to match his level.Therefore, what I need to do from now on is very clear.“Sōsuke, you need to work hard. As long as you put in enough effort, I can live the life I desire!”

“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.

Su Mo, a young man of the modern times, transmigrated to the world of martial arts.The sole survivor of the declining Su family, he inherited the Ziyang Escort Agency, a courier service that was on the brink of collapse.Su Mo was determined to restore the family business to its former glory, but he was young and inexperienced. And the martial arts world was fraught with dangers and intrigues!Unexpectedly, a system popped up that rewarded him each time he completed a courier mission.With this reward system, Su Mo entered an unprecedented realm. He mastered the Longxiang Wisdom Divine Skill which transformed his internal Qi and gave him boundless energy and stamina to accomplish his missions.Still, troubles came knocking on his door as he embarked on his missions, from escorting a benign scholar to delivering a mysterious brocade box for a dying man.Could Su Mo avoid getting tangled in other people's affairs? And would he survive the storms and gain a foothold in the treacherous martial arts world?

[sweet, pampering][strong FL, 1v1]He was an absolute noble, decisive and cold-hearted, yet he was persistently entwined with her, doting incessantly.The first time they met, he questioned, “Six years ago, was it you?”The second time they met, he was holding a paternity test, “You still dare to say your son isn't mine?”The nth time they met, she finally lost her patience, “Sir, will you ever give it a rest?”The man lifted the corners of his mouth, smiling with a deep and enchanting charm, “Not before our second child is born.”