The Hunter of the Other World Who Is Being Misunderstood - Chapter 47:

The first meeting was at a small bar. A friend nudged his arm, smiling somewhat suggestively: A woman like Daisy Ginger should be kept in a vase, constantly admired, and toyed with at any moment.At that time, she seemed to be drunk and was persuaded by her friend to take to the dance floor and perform a dance.He propped up his face, watching the glamorous woman with casual indifference under the dazzling lights.Daisy Ginger.The name is spicy enough.The figure.Also spicy enough.Banyan City’s young Master Wen, afflicted with a severe illness, was deemed by doctors at birth to not live past the age of thirty. He lived capriciously up to the age of twenty-five, never imagining he’d encounter such a dilemma in his lifetime—if he were to die, what would happen to the little demon at home who creates chaos and mischief without his protection, and ends up bringing harm upon herself when he’s no longer there to shield her?

Gu Bailu has transmigrated. She was in Dubai one second ago, but the next thing she knew, she finds herself in a deep, dark forest. To make things worse, her body has been poisoned and s*x is the only antidote. Thinking that she will die in the middle of nowhere, she somehow runs into a handsome guy who’s semi-conscious. Eager to rescue herself, Gu Bailu lies him down, not realizing that he is Prince Zi, a powerful and brutal man who has killed every woman that had approached him. Her life is saved, but she can’t get away from him…

After transmigrating to the parallel world of Blue Star, I, a top influencer, being exposed of having multiple girlfriends?Awakened a system, and the system has a kind of performance card prop which, when used, directly adds to performance?Fans:“Haha, it's good that this dead scrub was exposed, such a person should fade into obscurity!”“No way, how did this dead scrub's album break nine million sales, are you guys sick? You drop your fandom yet still buy his albums?”“What, the dead scrub's online store exploded in sales? It's all fans buying? What kind of crazy fans are these, get out!”“Ah, he broke five billion in box office now? The industry is buzzing about his fans being the top in breaking ranks?”“What happened to swearing off being fans and blacklisting him for life? Is this your idea of blacklisting!?”

“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.