MTL - What if My Brother is Too Good? - Chapter 11 Forced love

Su Chen traveled through the fantasy world and awakened the god-level bragging system.

Earn rewards as long as others brag about it!

Brothers and sisters of the same school: Although everyone is at the same level, but like you, my senior brother can kill ten in seconds with one sword!

Su Chen instantly stepped into the taboo realm, becoming the number one person in the same realm in all ages!

Zongmen Elder: I think Su Chen has the appearance of a great emperor!

Su Chen’s physical body became great immediately, his altar was clear, and his talent was raised to the extreme.

Supreme Immortal Emperor: From my point of view, the sword in the hands of fellow Taoist Su Chen is simple and unadorned. It looks ordinary, but in reality its brilliance is restrained. It must be a supreme weapon!

In an instant, the sword in Su Chen’s hand shone with divine brilliance, and turned into an extreme imperial weapon.

Peer Tianjiao: Are you really as strong as the legend says?

Su Chen: Wherever it is, it’s just everyone flattering and bragging.

…

The introduction is weak, please move to the text!

- Description from novelbuddy

Su Ming obtained the full occupation system, omniscient and omnipotent, and accepted ten apprentices on the mountain according to the system tasks.

Ten years later, the system can finally let him go down the mountain.

Only then did he discover;

His eldest apprentice became an urban killer

The second apprentice is the richest man in the world,

The three apprentices are the Huaxia Soldiers

……

- Description from novelbuddy

Yang Zhengshan transmigrated and realized a super leap in age, going from a young man to a grandfather.Transferred from 28 years old to 38 years old and gained three sons, two daughters, two daughters-in-law, two grandsons, and a granddaughter, becoming the true head of the family.My family, my rules. Watch how Yang Zhengshan leads a farming household to prosperity and wealth.

“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.