MTL - Daily Life of a Wealthy Woof - Chapter 16 [Dog in skirt] Pudding is a temperament

Mo Ran felt that taking Chu Wanning as his master was a mistake.

An 11-year-old boy suddenly woke up,

“...wait, where am I?”

“...I see, so this is the so-called transmigration.”

“hahaha.....hellll yaaaahh.”

“It's my time to show the world who the boss is.”

But he didn't realize what he caused,

“Wait, this isn't what should be... why is he here, and where's that prostitute? And why is my lover with him?”

“Fuck, what the hell is happening here? He shouldn't be here, and that guy should be dead, but how is he alive....urgh,” he grumbled.

“This is MY FUCKING WORLD, why are these guys interfering...aahhhhh,” he shouted.

A transmigrator who thought 'doing good deeds and fighting against evil will make him a hero and ruler of this world' now made a very small mistake which leads to,

“My wife....is a wonderful woman,” the mob character.

“Why? Why? Why? Why......” the mob character rumbled.

“Do you....believe in god?” the mob character questioned with a messed-up expression.

“S-Shall we get m-marry?”

“...” the mob character was shocked.

“I don't know why but I like you, I guess.”

“....” the mob character was too shocked.

“I like you, so be my son-in-law?”

“....” the mob character was too-too shocked.

“How about marrying my daughter and me at the same time?....what do they call that hmmm...'oyakodon,' right?”

'cough, cough.'

“What?” the mob character was finally snapped.

“Big Brother, when will we get married?”

“........”

Transmigrator never expects a certain 'Mob character' and how that 'Mob character' becomes a great disaster for the entire world because of his single mistake.

A/N: This is my first time writing, so give me your honest opinion whether it is good or bad, but please don't be harsh on me... okay, I will try my best.

CHOTTO MATTE....The first five chapters, The Transmigrator will be one to explain everything about this new world. I know I am not introducing the MC suddenly, and it's hard to info dump, but it's just for the first few chapters, so don't be harsh on me.

If you wondered who will be MC then, MC is just a 'Mob Character.'

Additional Tags: Harem, Male MC, Beautiful Female leads, Vampires, Dragons, Elves, dwarfs, Mermaids, Revenge? Deadly Yandere, Incest, Tsundere, Kuudere...Slow-paced

Hyperthymesia. Those with this condition can remember every detail of their lives from something as significant as the world’s turning point to something as small and as insignificant as a minor fleeting thought. They cannot forget and their thirst for knowledge allows them to be considered genius in some senses.

Legend has it that Ji Yushi was this kind of genius.

In addition, it was said that he was gay and very beautiful.

As soon as the news that he was going to support Tianqiong’s seventh squad broke out, it sent everyone buzzing.

Everyone knew that the captain of the seventh squad, Song Qinglan, was a hoodlum and deeply homophobic.

He not only relied on his super-powerful abilities to become the dark horse on the battlefield in less than two years, but he also hates it when those at the top forces a flower vase* into his squad.

Sure enough, Song Qinglan announced in front of everyone, “Useful? Us brothers are going out there working ourselves to the bone, we don’t need a little genius who can only speedread quantum waves!”

Later.

The squad was forced into a dire situation during their mission.

That beautiful little genius calmly continued, every gunfire hitting the mark, his fighting power peaking.

Song Qinglan begged in front of everyone, “Adviser Ji, stay.”

In the end, he added, “I’ll work myself to the bone for you.”

*****

Ji Yushi had a secret.

He would often be awake at night, suffering from memory overload and recurring nightmares.

There was only one thing that could let him fall asleep peacefully.

And that was Song Qinglan.

*Flower vase: Someone who only looks pretty but can’t amount to much

“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.