Grind-to-Cash System: Buy SSS Skills to Spam them Infinitely with Cash
"They Call Guys Like Me a Simp.ā
(Meanwhile, Iām 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? āHeās strategic.ā
He never opens up? āHeās mysterious.ā
He never flinches, never laughs, never lives ā
And you call that strength?
Funny.
Because to me?
Thatās just a prison in disguise.
You see an āalpha.ā
I see a boy too scared to feel anything real.
While they spend ten chapters monologuing about logic and sacrifice,
Iām already making the Saintess scream,
drenched in sin,
halo cracked,
legs trembling from truths her prayers never taught her.
And I didnāt 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 didnāt need to dominate her mind ā
I freed her heart.
But that scares people, doesnāt 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 donāt need to pretend emotions are weakness.
I weaponize mine.
Pleasure. Connection. Laughter.
Thatās 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,
Iām already balls deep in the jade fairy ā her sacred yin furnace clenching like itās 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.
Thatās 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,
Iām the one making goddesses question theirs ā
with a smirk, a touch, and no regrets.
Iām not the hero.
Not the villain.
Iām just a simp⦠the kind who leaves your cold, emotionless MCās woman dripping, ruined, and too stretched to go back to him.