The Regressor Is The Villain - Chapter 18: Despair (1)

“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.

I fell into a harem manga and became a magical girl.I just wanted to become a government employee and live a carefree life without getting involved with the main characters, but…“I love you.”The main heroine, who was supposed to confess to the protagonist, confessed to me instead.…Why?

[SLOW BURN} (CHECK OUT MY NEW MAFIA ROMANCE. OUT NOW!)“You can't hurt me anymore, Ace. I'm not that crybaby you used to know,” she warned, taking a step back.“Who said anything about hurting anyone, darling? There's only one place I need to cry for me. One very,” his eyes trailed down her body, and stopped between her thighs. “Very moist place.” He took two steps forward, and closed the gap between them.Ace is the legitimate heir to the Atticus dynasty, but there's a condition. Grandpa before his death says he cannot fully inherit everything until he gets married, and stays married for at least a year.Quick to think, he finds a solution to his dilemma; A contract marriage. With the help of his personal assistant, Grant, He finds Fay Landon.Dainty Fay that cries a lot, and can talk a storm. He vows it's only a marriage of convenience, until the redhead let's her hair down, and shows him the woman behind the tears.She falls first, but he falls harder.In the middle of the war for a billion dollar empire, heartless Ace Atticus will learn that to come out victorious, he needs a Fay up his sleeve.THIRD MONTH OF WIN-WIN. PLEASE SUPPORT ME WITH YOUR VOTES, COLLECTIONS, REVIEWS, COMMENTS, AND GIFTS. THANK YOU.

“The Second Cult Leader and the Prophet of the Voodooists died during the Holy War seven years ago.”

Florence Academy was a prestigious clergy academy.

“Now that the Voodooists are considered as a cult, who is the Third Cult Leader, where are they now, and what are they up to?”

Only I knew the answer to this question.

The Third Cult Leader was a freshman at Florence Academy. He was here, standing amongst the others in the auditorium.

How do I know this, you ask?

Because I’m the Cult Leader.

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