God of Blackfield - Chapter 461Extra, : Just Like Reznov, Haller, and Forman (1)

Robin Burton is a young man who grow with everything anyone can hope for, immense talent for cultivation, sharp mind, a wealthy family that will stop at nothing to protect and nurture him

He had everything... except the willingness to take them.

“Why would I take the same route as my ancestors ?

why should I become stronger? to beat this and compete with that..?

At the end of this road what will happen? get a harem then die and be forgotten after a few years?

NO! That is not what I got my talent for... THAT IS NOT WHAT I WAS BORN FOR!

what I want is more... much more.

I refuse... I will not take anyone's route, I will make my own...

I do not want to be a legendary figure, I will be THE Legend..

I.. Robin.. will do it my way, or die trying.”

This is the story of a Researcher, a Warlord and... a God Emperor.

The idiot Long Gen pretends to be a pig and eats a tiger, takes advantage of the girls in the village, travels across the countryside and forests, monopolizes the beauty and coquettishness, and achieves the legend of “Dragon Gen”. There is a widow in front of the door leaning on the door to watch, and a sister-in-law next door looking through the screen window… This book is determined to be a stallion, with the goal of pushing down and being pushed.

- Description from novelbuddy

She is the slow-witted idiot of the Prime Minister’s Residence. Everyone bullies her. He is the most respected and unfeeling Prince, with frightening ability and absolute envy! Together, they are conferred an imperial edict of marriage.

She acts stupid and tries to decline in every way possible while he despotically escorts her into the wedding…… everyone ridicules the match, but no one knows that the “idiot” has transformed from a loser into a talent.

After the marriage, when they encounter the Empress Dowager examining the room, they act in concert with each other and pretend to be two mandarin ducks deeply in love. Afterwards, she laughs, “The performance has ended. Your highness, please return.”

He laughs softly, “Since you’ve got onto this Prince’s bed, don’t even think of getting off.”

- Description from Novelupdates

“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.