Mr. President: You Are The Daddy Of My Triplets - Chapter 95- Lead

A decade ago, the first dungeon gates appeared, but some vanished before they were ever conquered. The MC, a low-rank hunter, awakens the Lost Gate System, granting him access to these forgotten dungeons where legendary monsters and artifacts are trapped. Each completed lost gate grants him absurd power, but also reveals terrifying truths—these dungeons are prisons for ancient beings who want revenge.

Lin Xiao was addicted to reading Qidian novels. He always fantasized that he would have a day when he could transmigrate and then embrace beautiful women all over the whole world, becoming the strongest person in the mainland.

After he really transmigrated, Lin Xiao stubbornly always believed that he was a protagonist until he met Ling Luo.

Only after being killed by Ling Luo did he know that he was only a cannon fodder villain in a novel.

When he restarted his life and hatefully wanted to oppose his fate at least once, he was ruthlessly crushed again.

Okay then… since a protagonist was determined to be like this, he wouldn’t oppose a protagonist anymore…

The two of them were similarly straight guys…

When he restarted his life again, Ling Luo unexpectedly suffered an Love Herb’s poison…

Lin Xiao internally cried as he looked at a certain person who tied him onto an obelisk in the back and thought, who could tell him what this was all about?

- Description from Novelupdates

She was once a globally renowned actress, but was imprisoned for being framed. After being released from prison, she faced huge contractual penalties and retaliation from others. She decided to reclaim her place in the ever-changing showbiz with her strength and wisdom to prove her ability and innocence.She tried her utmost to evade him, yet their fates remained intertwined. He said, “You can't hug me and give up on me!” “You want me to forgive you? Sure, unless I die!” She replied.

“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.