Aristocratic Shocking Love: The First Lady - Chapter 144

Voice Actor gong x Musical Actor shou

This is a story about ‘learning how to fly again after the wings of your dreams are broken.’

This is also a story about ‘how to love others and also love yourself.’

- Description from Novelupdates

Almond Crowshade was the last surviving human in a dying world whose people failed to conquer the Grand Abyss Labyrinth’s 30th floor in time. The world was getting destroyed, and Almond was the last one challenging the 30th Floor multiple times despite the imminent destruction of the planet. He ultimately defeated the Floor Boss on his dying breath by achieving a true awakening, acquiring an X-rank Trait that signified limitless potential. Alas, he won but there was no home or future for what he fought. But a mysterious figure arrived there, feeling pity and amusement. “This is too precious and fun of a toy to let it rot here. You shall reincarnate and climb up to make things interesting.” [Transfer to another world commencing…] [Your memories will be sealed, and you will reincarnate in another world that has welcomed Grimworld’s tutorial like this one. Clearing each floor of the Grand Abyss Labyrinth will unlock a portion of your memories, until the 10th Floor upon which you will gain your full memories.] ‘I’m giving you a second chance. This time, you must clear the Grimworld’s tutorial and step onto the big game to make things instresting and entertaining.’ [Good luck.]

I killed the protagonist.Yeah. He was a real son of a bitch.Noah didn’t just stumble into this mess. He walked straight in—grinning, sword in hand.One day, he wakes up inside his favorite game… as a throwaway side character no one remembers. A complete nobody. But when he figures out who the so-called “main character” is?Some smug, self-righteous psycho.So yeah—he killed him. No regrets.Story over, right?Not exactly.Because this world? It’s got one more player.“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!?”Now the story’s off the rails, the world’s gone completely off-script, and Noah’s got a new goal:Steal the hero’s spot. Rewrite the plot. Find out who the hell this other player is. And maybe—just maybe—make this damn story fun for once.

“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.