MTL - Mechanical God Emperor - Chapter 224 My blood is also hot

In the third year of the Kaihuang era, as the Great Sui began to unfold between the fall of the Northern Dynasties and the rise of the glorious Tang Dynasty, Emperor Yang Jian created the House of Blades – an intelligence agency for strategies and conspiracies – in preparation to unify the world.

On a snowy night, a convoy of tribute from the Kingdom of Khotan was raided. Not one soul survived the attack. Feng Xiao, Second Commandant of the House of Blades, was ordered by the Emperor to investigate the matter in person.

On the distant border, a storm brewed as major forces gathered from all sides in Liugong Town. The strong rubbed shoulders with the strong; the skilled crossed paths with the skilled.

Here, the ever-successful Second Commandant Feng ran into a wall for the first time – all because of a feeble Taoist priest with ailing health.

Some things would never be known if no fights were ever picked. Only through their skirmishes did Feng Xiao realise that this sick bastard seemed to have way more aliases and personas than he himself ever did.

- Description from Novelupdates

On an apparent normal Sunday, Luke suddenly woke up after hearing a voice warning him of something weird. After assuming that it was just a bizarre dream, he felt an earthquake that nearly destroyed his dormitory. As if things weren't odd enough, a zombie suddenly appears in his room and targets him.Somehow, Luke survived several encounters against the zombies thanks to his skill Weapon Augmentation, but then he suddenly finds a mini-sized elf and a mini-sized dark elf telling him that they want to help.After a stranger offer, Luke learns that something very big is happening with the planet, and now he will have to find the strength to fight against zombies and all kinds of weird creatures that want his neck... he will do all that while avoiding being tempted by those two very suspicious elves.The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

The Prea gods, who saved humanity from living as slaves to other races and established the human empire, passed down their bloodline. Those who inherited their blood were born with magical talent and could become wizards. After thousands of years, the empire fell, and the world became ruled by great masters across different regions.He was a young man who grew up with his mother, never knowing who his father was. Though he possessed tremendous magical abilities, he lived as a shepherd in a rural village. Now he ventures out into the world to discover the secrets of his bloodline.

“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.