The Ordinary Me is Worshipped as a Deity by the Extraordinary Them - Chapter 120

“I've always thought that the greatest stories are those that End when they should End”.But.Is it really true?Maybe I could be right or maybe wrong who knows.....[◆□◆□◆□◆□◆]BEGINS NOW.....ᚔᚔᚔᚔᚔᚔᚔᚔᚔᚔᚔᚔᚔᚔᚔᚔᚔᚔᚔᚔ“Why me?Why did I have to be the one pulled out of 8.23 billion souls.Maybe there’s no reason.Maybe life picks at random and laughs in your face.So let’s do what we can do now, in this moment stolen from the world I’ll never return to. 'But I wish I could....God I wish I could'.So The only answer left is to keep moving until the end.until then—============================P.S support this lazy ass author. And you might get a cookie.

After being rescued from the perpetual life of slavery as an Arcane Vessel, Theo is given a choice: To continue with his sad and miserable life, or to join a group of Mercenaries called The Ak’ashi Guild and change his life forever.Upon choosing the latter, he must now go through immense challenges and learn even more truths about the world than he ever thought existed.... All while doing his best to survive in the current age—the Arcane Era.Tags: Fantasy. Action. Adventure. Magic. WeaktoStrong. Romance. NoHarem. SliceofLife.

I seem to have reincarnated in the world of an r-rated romance fantasy novel. And not just as an ordinary character, but as the witch who loses her life to the crazy male lead!

Luckily there is a long 200 years until the main characters are born and grow into their roles.

Now that my life is not in imminent danger, shall we leisurely think of ways to avoid death?

However, I had not taken notice of a very important detail about the time I’d be spending ‘safe from imminent danger’. 200 years was by no means a short waiting period and by the time the younger version of the male lead appeared in front of me , I had completely forgotten the original novel’s plot!

Oh, whatever, now that it’s come to this, the only way to survive is to raise the male lead into a sane and stable adult! The first step to avoiding death by the hands of the tyrant male lead is changing this extremely frightened child’s life.

“It must be very inconvenient for you to have me suddenly show up on your doorstep, I’m sorry. You can tell me to go away, I’ll be fine.”

“Nonsense. Do I look like someone who could be inconvenienced by a little boy like you? Also, what do you mean by you’ll be fine even if told to go away? It’s not like you have anywhere to go back to, kid.”

The little boy burst into tears.

‘Oh, this is so not it.’ Was what the witch thought to herself as the little boy sobbed

“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.