Urban Supreme Medical Saint - Chapter 126 - 125: Elder Ye’s Love for Talent (Fourth Update!)_1

When the night came, there was a twittering sound in his ears, and the monster in the shadow began to move restlessly. Jason’s hungry stomach began to roar, and he couldn’t help swallowing saliva. Hunger is the best spur.

Born into one of the wealthiest families in the country, Layla Rosenzweig's true identity is taken away at the time of her birth by the mistress of her father. She is forced to live as the illegitimate daughter of the Rosenzweig Family. Everyone treats her no less than an outsider in her own house. “This is mine. That is mine. In fact, everything is mine,” Layla's half-sister told her. Everything that belonged to Layla is given to her half-sister, including her boyfriend. Then, she is forced to marry her ex-boyfriend's ruthless uncle, Lucius De Salvo, the most terrifying man in the country. Lucius De Salvo is known for his ruthless ways to get his work done. His name is enough to terrify people. It is said that he is a man devoid of emotions. He will find pleasure in people's pain and misery. He loves to torment those who come under his radar. But why is he so lovely to Layla? Or is it just a pretense?“Are you ready for the wedding night, Darling?” Lucius asked. “I've desired you for a long time.” “What?” Layla was shocked. “Why would you?” “Because you are Layla Rosenzweig. The woman I like.” With that, he captured her mouth for a passionate kiss.

One day, Raizou ​​Takakura, an average salaryman, had a Heart Attack and his life ended that day.

But, he got a second life, in a different world.

Reincarnated with strong skills―― wasn’t what happened to him, instead, he was reincarnated as a foot soldier in a small country, Highserk Empire, which was surrounded by large countries.

With a new name, Walm, he was thrown into the frontline of war.

Covered in blood and the stench of death, along with his comrades, he was slipping through life-or-death situations.

An adventurer party with members that could use powerful magic, transferees with overwhelming power called the “heroes”.

In a deadly battle with them, Walm gradually developed his talent as a warrior which would’ve never awakened if he were to stay in times of peace.

While his eyes becoming dark and muddy over time――

“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.