Destroying My Own Novel - Chapter 5

An Extra is a minor background character with little to no influence on the main story. Their purpose is to fill out scenes and represent the larger world in which the story takes place.Yet,One Extra defied its existence. One Extra destroyed the story.********Luke, an editor, was transmigrated into the story with one goal:“Kill The Extra.”

After the ‘100-Year War’ between the Necromancers and Priests, an all-time genius who’ll shake the power structure was born. “Am I a rare case or something? Do I have talent?” A potential beyond all imagination. He obtained his father’s undead army and entered the great Necromancer school of Kizen that divided the continent. Geniuses are geniuses, even when gathered among the elites. The research community was flipped on its head by the appearance of a new case. Professors wouldn’t leave him be alone, wanting to make him study directly under them. Officials from all over the kingdom and heads of organizations fidgeted over whether to scout him. “Professor! When can I make a Lich?” “Gimme a break. How talented are you? You’re crossing the line, honestly.” A genius among geniuses had appeared.

(Women disguised as men) Strong women and men with black bellies.

‘He’ is a rare ‘male god’ who is handsome, wealthy and has no gossip. And he is an ordinary man who hits a wall when he gets along with a man and a woman.

A contract bound the two tightly together. Facing the indifferent ‘him’, he was always cautious, fearing that ‘he’ would fall in love with his prosperous appearance.

Isn’t the legendary ‘he’ aloof and unfeminine? It doesn’t matter, take the initiative to bring him. When the rare ‘male god’ identity is revealed, he not only has to face female love rivals, but also a large wave of male love rivals ahead. ‘What should I do if my daughter-in-law is too handsome? ’ ‘Being coquettish, being cute, and rolling around’

“Mother~Mother…” A certain neglected baby was hanging on his lap with an aggrieved expression on his face. As soon as the words came out, a chestnut fell on the baby’s head, “How many times have I said that I am your father and that is your mother?”

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.