MTL - The New Order of Azeroth - Chapter 12 Hemet Nesingwary

“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.

A filthy, idiotic, hypocritical alcoholic degenerate, known to most as Ricky Freeman, died in a tragic car accident when his lower half was crushed by a drunk driver. Coughing out a bloody mourning for his balls, Ricky finally dies only to wake up in his next life. Reincarnated in the 1920s as a orphaned kid, how will he live in a universe filled to it's brim with cosmic beings-*DING*'Huh?'[Congratulations Host for receiving the Impregnation System]

“The fallen, the near extinction, those who wish to die, the rich, those who have been loved by life, and those who have been chosen. Are you ready to leave everything you have behind? Are you, the ones chosen by the gods themselves, ready to write history?”“Are you, the reason for the creation of the line between life and death, ready to become holy beings? Are you ready to climb beside Zeus, Odin, Archangel Michael, Lucifer the Fallen Angel, Buddha and others? Are you ready to become a God?”“You've been chosen!” These words would be the words James would hear the most from the moment he entered the tower.Behind the strange events, special feelings and dozens of things lost, James would have only one thing on his mind:“I will break through the tower and meet Chaos himself.”

I belong to a good sect that has never turned its back on me for my poor potential, has never forced me to study martial arts, and even helped arrange a betrothal for me when I was young.

My fiancée is a much renowned hot-tempered young miss. She’s beautiful, strong, and deeply loves me. Upon my start down the path of the Jianghu, I entirely relied on her to provide cover for me and before long, I became renowned as the #1 Pretty Boy of the Immortal Path.

Yet one day, I discovered that this person is apparently a man. A man in drag!

More unforgivable is that he thought I was a woman dressing as a man!

Me, as if my liver and guts are being cut to pieces: “Brother, what have you done with my fiancée?”

Him, as if a knife has been twisted in his heart: “Brother, what have *you* done with my fiancée?”

The waters of the Jianghu are indeed murky. Even if I am starving, even if I’m dying far from home, from this point on, I will not eat even a mouthful of rice prepared by him.

—So fragrant.

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