I'm in Hollywood - Chapter 250: Two Things

Cliché! Cliché! Cliché!OP protag? Check.Beautiful girls? Check.Standard plot? Check.Sub par writing? Yes.Sit back, turn off your brain, and stuff yourself with this junk food novel! I would also like to add that this novel is a touch more romance heavy! A touch!I also post on Scribblehub, the main site I update on. If you like what you see, consider supporting me on patreon!

Liam was a regular high school student who spent most of his days and nights gaming. After a long night of gaming, he woke up the next morning to find a holographic screen floating in front of him.Not only that, but the screen informed him that he must run three miles or he would be punished. Naturally, he ignored it, thinking that his lack of sleep had caused him to hallucinate. The time slowly ticked down while he had yet to complete his quest.He was then transported to a desert, surrounded by wild wolves. He narrowly escaped without being ripped apart, and that’s when a notification popped up.[Congratulations on not dying! For that, your body has made small improvements. You are well on your way to becoming a pro boxer.]With this system, Liam must take on the task of becoming a pro boxer; he must train and work rigorously. Will he succeed? Well, you must read to find out!NOTE: For the system, there will be no power padding or points system. The system’s job is solely to train him.

Parents dead, clan exterminated, body burned, hands mutilated, inflicted with innumerable diseases, tossed into the dump, and even the magic ring with the ghostly grandpa in it has been sabotaged. A reasonable person would roll over and die. Tian isn't that reasonable. And as it happens, neither is Grandpa Jun. A very tough kid meets a very cunning old man. And together, they will shake the heavens. What to expect:-1 chapter a day M-F. Volume 1 is already complete.-2k words per chapter (aprox, some run long) with a longer first chapter.-No Harem-Earned power growth-An MC who isn't a goodie two shoes OR an edge-lord psychopath-A power system based on actual Daoism -Sects, giant monsters, natural treasures, flying swords, spells, talismans, secret arts, and a gentle sprinkling of young masters whose face need rearranging.

“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.