Cherreads

Grind-to-Cash System: Buy SSS Skills to Spam them Infinitely With Cash

Idiocrat
"Money can't buy happiness." —modern world "Strength comes from within." —Cultivation world "True love is priceless." —fantasy world Yeah, yeah. Write that shit on a coffee mug and sell it to broke losers. Me? I buy happiness by the kilo. I download strength like a fucking app. And true love? I pick it up off the floor after a princess cums her brains out screaming my name. This world? It's filled with pain, grief, disappointment, and no laughter at all. Of course, that isn't the case with me. I laugh while I fuck the princesses. I tell jokes while I rip the crowns off kings. And I buy goddamn power with money. This world? It's a clusterfuck. Ancient cultivators think they’re gods. Modern soldiers think bullets can save them. Fantasy beasts roar, tanks explode, and I'm just here — buying everything that isn't nailed down and fucking everything that moans the right way. Saintess? I pulled her halo down and made her gag before she even finished her sermon. Jade Empress? Begging to be handcuffed to my throne, still wearing her battlefield armor, wet enough to drown a city. Holy Princess? Dropped her royal panties faster than her daddy dropped dead when the gates opened—and moaned louder than the war horns that followed. Modern Valkyrie? She became my personal warhorse, riding me till sunrise, her rose molding itself to the shape of my thing like it was carved for me. And the best part? I didn’t even have to fight fair. I believe in the quote: "Laughter is the greatest medicine." So I made a little medicine of my own. A sweet, stupid giggle that numbs their nerves, clouds their minds, and melts their bodies — until they don't even realize when their bra slips off, when their panties slide down their thighs, when my fingers are already tracing places no prayer can reach. They laugh, they blush, they stumble into my arms... And by the time the giggles fade? They're naked. They're dripping. They're mine. I don’t conquer cities. I conquer thighs. I don’t steal treasure. I steal hearts — and then I fuck them so hard they forget their own names. Because here's the truth nobody likes to admit: Girls don’t want heroes. They want the villain who makes them laugh so hard their knees buckle, who grins like a devil and whispers filth into their perfect, trembling ears. They want the man who buys the world — and fucks them on top of it. And me? I’m him. The Joker with a billion-dollar card. The clown who walks into a temple and walks out with a priestess dripping down his thigh. The smiling bastard who’s gonna own the last three worlds standing — and then buy a new one just to fuck on. I’m not just a villain. I’m the system’s mistake. The world's bad investment. The last man standing when all your heroes are crying in the dirt. And if you think you can stop me? You better hope your girl ain’t in the front row. Because if she hears me laugh once? She’s already mine.
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