STRIKER: Independent Beast Tamer - Chapter 210: Discovered the truth

18 years have passed since I was born as Allen, the eldest son of an earl in this world, while still retaining my memories of the present world. This world is peaceful and a stable society. The only extraordinary thing is that I was reincarnated into a world that is lenient on the existence of concubines. I selected a silver-haired maid as a sex slave and second wife candidate from among 10 candidates after a strict fellatio practical exam. I then lived an erotic life at home and at school as an attendant, but my reincarnated life is so fulfilling that I'm worried it will explode, as my busty childhood friend, a noble girl who was unsuccessful, ran for the third wife candidate, and my stepmother, who was my virgin partner, was sold off.

Having spent her childhood confined in chains, Alice was a child who knew neither love nor joy. Scorned by her family while being tortured in the name of the greater good for years, she grew numb to all feeling and thought. That is, until one day, a man in black offered her a chance to escape.There were once rumours widespread of an endless hell, a land of glorious death and dreadful opportunity. Fools went in search of it, and the clever never ventured into it. Only when its baleful mysteries spilled unto the earth did all hear its name — the Abyss.A single drop of its blood could give someone the power to control shadows, move faster than sound, or strength greater than the strongest man. Yet, it all came at a cost; the blood would always make sure those who consumed it became part of the Abyss, with one exception — Alice. Cast away by her own blood, it was her destiny to rot in a gilded cage.But, that fateful day changed everything. Gifted a second chance at life, a chance to turn her life around and claim vengeance against her family, a chance to dive deep into the Abyss and gain the power to govern her own fate, Alice took his hand, unaware of the destiny unfolding before her.

“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.

Wang Tianxiao was reborn thirty years ago, the day before the eldest son was born.

It was more than 20 degrees below zero, and the wife shivered on the cold kang with her big belly and three-year-old daughter in her arms.

In the pot, there was no firewood to be seen, and the bottom of the water tank was solidly frozen.

What a difficult start.

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