I Regressed and the Genre Changed - Chapter 48 – Three-Way Confrontation (1)

Wu Chen crossed the new world, but was trapped on July 7th, 2020, and continued to reincarnate!

He has been indulgent, doing evil, and desperately violently committing suicide hundreds of times in different ways, but every new day, everything will come back. He also has hundreds of languages and can communicate with 99.9% of the world.

He is proficient in all mainstream instruments, and he is a master of beauty. He has studied fighting, car skills, shooting, and cooking in his repeated time. Art, dance, performance…

So he reincarnation for a thousand years, a new day, the sun rises as usual. – Time is: July 8, 2020.

- Description from wkkshu translation

Reborn in the world of Naruto, Otis is granted a single “Legendary Skill”: Throwing. No chakra beasts. No kekkei genkai. Just the art of hurling things... perfectly. Now a towering five-year-old in Konoha, Otis must survive a ninja world that laughs at his gift — until they see what a true master of throwing can do.------------------------------------------Disclaimer:This is a fan fiction inspired by Naruto by Masashi Kishimoto. All rights belong to their original owners. No copyright infringement intended. For concerns, contact me and I’ll take it down.------------------------------------------(A/N):This Fanfiction is written by me.This is not a translation or adaptation.I upload on Webnovel, Royal Road, and Scribble Hub only------------------------------------------Want to read ahead?Join my Patreonpatreon.com/pacifist01https://discord.gg/SeF8utGspM

Gripes have their origins and debts have their creditors. We haven’t crossed each other in days past or present, nor formed any grudges. I am but duty-bound to carry this out, so apologies in advance!

In his past life, Yang Chen was a gentle person who was oppressed for his whole life.

Now that he’s reborn, he chose to become an executioner and severs ties and grudges with his executioner’s blade, killing all that climb onto the Immortal Executioner’s Platform!

Heads will roll! Humans’ in the human realm, demons’ in the demon realm, devils’ in the devil realm and immortals’ in the immortal realm!

“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.