Anti Netotare Villian - Chapter 39: Loyal Servent - 4 (R-18)

You’d think seeing the future would give me a head start on surviving the apocalypse. I had it all planned—until everything I knew shattered when my husband sacrificed himself to save me and our son. Now it’s just me, my three-year-old son Leo, and my cursed gift of foresight that only seems to kick in when it’s nearly too late.I’m doing my best to keep us safe, to find food, to make some kind of plan—“Mommy?”I glance down, trying to ignore the tug on my pant leg as I focus on our supplies. “Not now, Leo. Mommy’s thinking.”“Mommy!”I sigh and finally look down. My three-year-old is standing there, clutching… I blink. “Leo, where did you get a knife?”He shrugs, grinning like it’s the most natural thing in the world.My heart stutters. “No, really. Where did you find that?”I try not to laugh. I mean, he’s three. Maybe he just—found it somewhere? But the next day, it’s a water bottle. Then, a tiny flashlight, somehow with batteries still inside.I don’t even know what else; he’s pulling things out one by one with the pleased grin of a kid who’s just figured out his favorite game.Well, we may just survive this mess after all.Now, if only the universe could have spared me from him. I don’t even know his name, but I know his type: tall, broad, and annoyingly handsome, with an air of calm control that’s out of place in this chaos. Ex-military, if I had to guess, with a voice that’s just as infuriating as his smirk. The man has a habit of showing up at the worst—or best—possible times, with a gun at the ready and secrets buried as deep as those bright green eyes.I mean, he’s probably useful, but I’m trying to keep my eyes on the prize here: survival.For Leo and me.Because, foresight or no foresight, nothing is guaranteed in this new world—except the fact that people like him are trouble.

Fang Heng was transmigrated to a parallel world and his soul was forced into the body of a man who had just committed suicide.Huh? What? Every human here was being forced to join a game? Those who refused would be killed?Wait? This suicide dude was a pro gamer?He had the highest S-rank talent sill, the Zombie Clone?Damn! The S-rank skill evolved! My zombie clones could auto hunt![Your zombie army has crafted Wooden Axe x720 when you were offline. You have received 1921 experience points for the Basic Crafting skill.][Your zombie army has chopped down 27,821 trees and gathered 128,973 pieces of wood while you were offline. You have received 2,171,921 experience points for the Basic Wood Chopping skill.]Just as the rest of the players were struggling to survive in the zombie apocalyptic game, Fang Heng's zombie clones were starting to clear every resource out of the forest.Hm... What an interesting game!

“There are no heroes. In life, the monsters win.”

...

In 2106, [Mayhem Online], a fully immersive VRMMO game, was released. Soon, it dominated the world's economy when people could exchange the in-game currency with real-life currency and vice versa.

In the year 2107, Flynn Grey, a 22-year-old college dropout with an ambiguous history, joined in the fray of billions of people that had already started playing [Mayhem]. Hoping to uncover the game's secret and earn a fortune, he spent months on adventures without fruitful results.

For better or worse, Shura, Flynn's in-game character, ends up in a great Wyvern's den, acquiring a hidden class and a monstrous race. Join him as he defeats his past and paves his way into becoming a true legend in both worlds.

To be a good mistress:

Lesson 1: The location does not matter; all that matter is whether he wishes to.

“This is an exchange for money and not a game of love.”

Yet, he is eventually addicted to spoiling her and sending her to cloud nine, giving her whatever she wishes for.

—

“Young Master Huo, Ms. An said that she wants to be the world’s top supermodel.”

As a result, news of the Huo Conglomerate entering the entertainment industry shocks the entire world.

“Young Master Huo, Ms. An said that she wants to get married at the age of 28.” The man’s gaze deepened as he replied, “That’s too late.”

The little bun behind him secretly hands him a household registration book and declares with a nasal and innocent-sounding voice, “Daddy, I will pay for your nine-dollar marriage registration fee!”