The Rise Of A Porter - Chapter 527 - Work With Me (2)

Only a pure maiden can have a privilege to make contract with a spirit.

In Areishia Acadamy, maidens from noble family were gathered there, giving them an elite education to become a spirit contractor. A boy Kamito, by accident he peeped on a girl, Clair, who was taking a bath, and he even made a contract with spirit that she wanted.

Kamito was actually an irregular male spirit contractor, which should not exist.

[Ding! Your new life has started. Stats have been reset. Potential has been recalculated. Your new journey has begun][Ding! Awkenining God's Blood. Your new body has the potential to become a God.]______Emperor Fenrir was hailed as the tyrant of power had everything a human could desire. Power, wealth and even people who looked up to him. However, despiute having it all, he lacked the most crutial thing needed for him to advance to a God - the blood of Gods that would break the last barrier for him.To overcome this weekness, Emperor Fenrir decides to restart his life by getting reborn into a body had has the highest amount of God's blood and would allow him to fulfil his goal. And finally, after a thousand years of waiting, he finally found the body he had been waiting for.What he did not expect was for the previous owner of his dream body to be a looser who had noting except money to call as a power. The pampered young master Fenrir got reincarnated to was the lowest of the low scums who depended on hs money to solve all his problems.However, now that Fenrir was here, this was all going to change. The world will see the rise of the tyrant once more...and a god as well.______r18 is mainly gore...and MC's tendencies. You have been warned. No Harem. No Romance.

“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.

[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.”