Detective Agency of the Bizarre - Chapter 4: IV. Person, Oil Lamp, Flame

This is a world where humans, demons and mysterious beasts coexist.

Humans cultivate mysterious qi. Demons cultivate corporeal bodies. Mysterious beasts cultivate soul perception.

A legend says that in the middle of an endless rainforest, there are extremely powerful existences; they are called demon kings.

Some demon kings have a tyrannical corporeal body, some are experts in illusions.
Some demon kings are proficient in magic, some can even move mountains.
Some demon kings are able to sense things thousands of miles away.

These demon kings rarely appear in the human world. Even if they emerge in the human world, they would reincarnate in human form; assimilating with mankind while seeking to breakthrough realms…

- Description from Novelupdates

The people of Earth have been summoned once again

Scientists document six extinction events in Earth's history, but none of them were as natural as they claimed.

Sylas and his family have been called back to the Browns, a family of billionaire elites with assets reaching into the trillions. He isn't sure what to expect until he touches a floating bronze cube that changes his life.

[Bronze City Stele]

[Status: Dormant]

[Time to Activation: 04:13:38]

Unfortunately, there's only one Stele and the Browns have already decided upon their candidates. If Sylas wants to control his own fate, he'll have to enter the Trial.

Now, woefully unprepared, and stuck in a world filled with the extinct creatures of Earth, he'll have to carve out his own opportunity... whether the Browns like it or not.

“When the Lord Jesus comes for the second time, those who died in Christ’s name will be raised from the grave first.”

– “1 Thessalonians 4:16”

In 2019, an outbreak of zombie virus quickly swept the world within months.

Communications were interrupted, water and electricity support ceased, chemical plant leaked, nuclear power plant exploded, the world was reduced to be like hell on earth; without God, it became an era of legends and saviors, with the fire of survival instinct rekindled within mortals.

Resident Evil zombie-theme in ABO setting.

“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.