Apocalypse: The Supporting Actress Made a Comeback - Chapter 664 - 357 Cunning!_2

Jobs, hobbies, lifestyles—the world has advanced to a point where nothing can be separated from VR anymore. And now, a VR game was released using the most cutting-edge technologies; its name was “Boot Hour, Shoot Curse.” Our protagonist had no choice but to play solo during the closed beta test, but once the game officially launched, she made lots of friends (but not necessarily with the players), formed a huge clan (but not a clan of players), and matured as an individual.

If you can reincarnate or transmigrate into a cultivation novel world and you have a choice, would you be a protagonist, an antagonist, a side character, or a mob character?

And what would you do if you are aware that you’re a character in a cultivation novel?

Mao Miaomiao, a 60-year-old retired professional MMA fighter got transmigrated into a mysterious cultivation world with modern technologies. He found himself in his youthful body, and he got a system as a bonus.

Cliche, right?

Genius prodigy ​Ji Yu married the icy ​CEO Gu Yan out of gratitude, assuming their union was a temporary transaction. Wrong. While she breezed through their sham marriage, Gu Yan—her “husband-in-name-only”—quietly rewrote the rules.Post-divorce, Ji Yu thrives: clubbing with models, sipping champagne, and flaunting her freedom. ​Post-divorce, Gu Yan implodes: stalking her parties, hijacking her dates, and growling, “Try replacing me. I dare you.”But fate laughs at their feud. On the night their divorce is finalized, a reckless encounter ignites—hotter, messier, and utterly unforgettable. Now Gu Yan, the once-detached tycoon, is addicted to the wife he never truly let go.“Marry me again. Legally. Shamelessly. Forever.”“No. But thanks for the one-night souvenir, Mr. Ex.”

Vincent van Gogh, the painter who refused to be an accessory Of power and painted with his soul at the tip of a brush, was not understood by anyone and had to die like a madman, and he woke up in 21st century Korea.

Like a wheat field melted with gold, like a sunflower that swallowed the sun, a dazzling painter once again takes the brush.