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... aw is released, many people will be able to share the family property. A family can guarantee that there will not be a mediocre person in one generation, but it cannot guarantee that several generations will fight for the family.

As long as a family member with the right of inheritance starts to make trouble, if the family does not have a strong person above the Xiantian realm, it is likely to fall.

After this law is passed, families without Xiantian realm can only be regarded as ...

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“Isn't this the weak young master of the Valhalla family?”“Hahaha! I heard he only knows how to waste money... Completely useless.”Another voice, dripping with false pity, chimed in.“Both his sister and brother are Tamers, strong ones at that. While him... the eldest... pathetic!!”The final word, spat out like a curse, hung in the air: “Useless!”In this world, where the bond with powerful Beasts dictated one's standing, where strength was synonymous with the ferocity and strength of your companion.Christopher Valhalla was an anomaly. He found solace not in the thrill of battle or the acquisition of monstrous power, but in the simple, fleeting joys of life. He enjoyed partying, clubs, and women.He offered no retort to the cruel rumors that trailed him like a shadow. Because, truth be told, a knot of fear tightened in his stomach at the mere sight of the majestic, often terrifying, creatures that others commanded.But every life, regardless of its perceived worth, eventually finds its end. For Christopher, it came not in the jaws of a wild Beast, nor in a duel he was ill-equipped for, but in the insidious grip of a rare and incurable sickness.Some days later his flame flickered and he died, leaving behind a void filled with the echoes of scorn.Yet, where one life ended, another began. In the silent stillness of Christopher's vacant shell, a new consciousness stirred. A soul, bearing the weight of unmatched power and a reputation that sent shivers down the spines of even the most formidable Tamers, had arrived.This was the Supreme Tamer, a legend whispered in hushed tones across the world, a force of nature who had inexplicably perished at the hands of betrayal.Given this unexpected second chance, the Supreme Tamer, now inhabiting the frail form of Christopher Valhalla, felt a strange sense of acceptance. He looked upon the unfamiliar yet familiar faces of his new family – the concerned worry etched on their features – and a flicker of something akin to kinship sparked within him.A silent vow formed in his mind, hardening into an unbreakable resolve.The rumors that clung to this body like a shroud would be torn away. And the five Master Tamers who had orchestrated his demise in his previous life… They would learn the true meaning of fear.Their betrayal would be answered, not with petty revenge, but with the full, terrifying might of the Supreme Tamer, reborn. The world was about to discover that “useless” could be the most dangerous disguise of all.

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“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.