MTL - From the Power of Space To the Heavens - Chapter 117 A qualified wingman...

The Celestial Express is a train that goes from one galaxy to the next, picking up passengers along the way.Its Navigator, the one who drives it through the stars, is a god who can grant those passengers wishes.Jax arrives on the Celestial Express with no memories but a single wish—to save someone. After learning what the Navigator is capable of, he decides to go find him.To find the Navigator, he must go through TEN different Carriages, all of which contain a world of their own.And, he must do it with a restriction called Single Spell Sorcerer.

High-school student Koremitsu Akagi finds himself attending the funeral of Hikaru Mikado, who had died in an accident during Golden Week. He’s not sure why he’s there, as he only exchanged a few words with Hikaru at school. However, Hikaru doesn’t seem to be completely gone from the world, as he comes back as a ghost in order to fulfill a promise to Aoi Saotome, his fiancée. Since Koremitsu is the only one who can see him, he asks him to carry out his promise in his place.

Complying with his request, Koremitsu tries to fulfill Hikaru’s promises to the rest of his “girlfriends”, helping them overcome past misunderstandings and repair broken relationships.

Su Mo, a young man of the modern times, transmigrated to the world of martial arts.The sole survivor of the declining Su family, he inherited the Ziyang Escort Agency, a courier service that was on the brink of collapse.Su Mo was determined to restore the family business to its former glory, but he was young and inexperienced. And the martial arts world was fraught with dangers and intrigues!Unexpectedly, a system popped up that rewarded him each time he completed a courier mission.With this reward system, Su Mo entered an unprecedented realm. He mastered the Longxiang Wisdom Divine Skill which transformed his internal Qi and gave him boundless energy and stamina to accomplish his missions.Still, troubles came knocking on his door as he embarked on his missions, from escorting a benign scholar to delivering a mysterious brocade box for a dying man.Could Su Mo avoid getting tangled in other people's affairs? And would he survive the storms and gain a foothold in the treacherous martial arts world?

“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.