The Sword Emperor Transmigrates - Chapter 249

A Consort seeks prosperity.A Shepherd cloaked in yellow wages war.A Prosthesis-wielder cries out for retribution.Shadows tremble in the depths, encompassed worlds obscuring the many dangerous secrets of history. Might they be unraveled, all ways of life would be threatened. But to climb higher requires risks, to seek the light requires a Gambit of Lifetimes.Only when one determines themselves capable of risking it all, can all prosper.

He is the genuine diamond bachelor of G City, ranking first in terms of net worth,Everyone knows that he had a deep and unforgettable love,But no one knows that, five years ago, he had a nominal marriage;She is the super nurse of G City People Hospital, with neither wealth nor high education,Everyone knows that she is divorced and has a child in tow,But no one knows that her ex-husband, the father of her child, is the man at the very top of the pyramid.Scene One:On the day she was diagnosed to be pregnant, her husband registered on the marriage certificate came back.The next day, at the breakfast table, an A4 sheet of paper appeared very abruptly by his right hand.“This is a divorce agreement, please sign it.” She said, her internal organs trembling.“...Is there someone else?” He put down his chopsticks, looked at her, and asked calmly, his eyebrows almost imperceptibly twitching.He came back because there was something he wanted to talk to her, but now it seemed unnecessary.“...Yes.” Having a child should count as having someone else, because from now on, she would love her child.When they got married back then, he had said that if she had a lover, she could ask him for a divorce.“Alright, I understand.” He nodded, picked up the agreement on the table, and left.“...”Scene Two:“What's your name?”“Axel Hawkins.”“Your last name is Hawkins?” The mother's name is Carolline Ruiz, his ex-wife, and the father's column is left blank, isn't it?“Yes, my dad's name is Bryan Hawkins, he's a Sky Walker.”“...”At five in the afternoon, Carolline Ruiz picked up her son from school and saw him standing next to her son; she instinctively turned around and ran.Bryan Hawkins left Axel Hawkins in the Guard Room, warned him not to run around, and then chased after her with his long legs.“Carolline Ruiz, stop.”“..” Almost instinctively, she really stopped.He slowly walked over and stood in front of her, a tall and imposing figure blocking all the setting sun.Carolline Ruiz couldn't help but look up, the afterglow of the setting sun illuminating his face, she couldn't see his features clearly at all.“What are you running for? If you dare to secretly love for eight years, do you dare to openly love for a lifetime?”“...”

“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.

A decision can destroy the sun, moon and stars. A finger can kill the Heavenly Overlord. While chatting, the Heaven and ten worlds can be annihilated.