God of Fishing - Chapter 1783 - Heavenly Talent of the Poison Dao

Bai Yu traveled to the world of One Piece and activated the strongest swordsman system at the beginning.

No need to practice, swinging a knife will become stronger!

Thus, Bai Yu started his daily routine of wielding a knife.

Swing the knife 1000 times, and get the limit of physical strength – six styles.

Swing the knife 2,000 times to obtain the powerful Qinglong Sword Intent.

Swing the knife 3000 times, get three-color domineering.

General Huang Yuan: Bai Yu is the strongest rookie I have ever seen.

General Aokiji: My freezing ability was directly chopped into pieces by Bai Yu!

General Red Dog: Dangerous! My marshal position is about to change!

Hawkeye: Bai Yu is the number one swordsman in the world!

Since then, the name of Bai Yu has resounded throughout the world of pirates.

- Description from novelbuddy

Raymond, a lowly illegitimate son.He was born as the son of a noble, but he was nothing but a filthy man in the eyes of many.Even his qualities as a natural healer are the worst of the worse: Grade F.It was an irredeemable talent that was worse than the lowest class, indeed.But one day, a miracle happened to him.[You awakened as a player!] [Occupation: Surgeon] It was the beginning of a great legend.

“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.

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.