Dungeon Defense - Chapter 392: The Dripping Night (1)

My name is Yan, and since I was a child, I’ve been able to see some strange things.For example—In elementary school, our new neighbor Aunt Tan had a pair of all-around genius twins, who were like the “precious little geniuses” with halos above their heads. They could recite the English-Chinese dictionary backwards at three, master both Chinese and Western musical instruments by five, and hack into a country’s database by seven…Growing up next to such prodigies, my life was inhumane, tragic, and constantly subjected to comparisons.To escape the comparisons with these “other people’s children,” I specifically applied to a private boarding school for middle school.On my first day, my deskmate was a small, thin girl with bangs, wearing an old uniform, and her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.Three months later, she woke up from a nap with a “rebirth” halo above her head.She moved effortlessly among the cold academic genius, the wolf-like school bully, the fierce boss, and the gentle childhood friend, leaving me, a lonely onlooker, utterly amazed.By university, I thought I had finally escaped this abnormal world.But as soon as I stepped into my dorm room, my footsteps froze.My roommates each had halos like “ancient times to modern,” “post-apocalyptic superhuman,” “will die if not spending money,” and “ghost king revival.”I clutched my little blanket and applied to the counselor for a room change, but to no avail.Over time, I gradually got used to it. “Handover systems,” “management systems,” “book transmigration,” “infinite worlds,” “three-and-a-half-year-olds,” “interstellar live streams,” “red envelope groups”…The types of halos kept increasing, and I was able to calmly ignore all of it, focusing on my own life.Every morning, I skillfully helped my “ancient to modern” roommate, who was being blacklisted online, dodge campus paparazzi and secure seats for class.At noon, I assisted my tycoon roommate in distributing today’s haul of luxury skincare and designer bags, tasting the city’s top private chef’s custom lunchbox, and exclaiming with emotion, “Darling, can I really accept these?”In the evening, I enjoyed the flowers and plants cultivated by my superhuman roommate on the balcony, tasting a mutated cherry tomato and commenting, “I feel refreshed and purified.”Late at night, when my ghost king roommate quietly climbed back through the window, I peeked out to ask, “You’re back a bit late today, didn’t bring anything back, did you?”My name is Yan, and I am not the protagonist of this world.

The jeers followed her like a persistent shadow. “Murderer!” the crowd screamed, their faces contorted in a grotesque parody of the adoration she once commanded.Just months ago, they had screamed her name, their voices a deafening roar as she shimmied across the stage, a beacon of light and pop perfection. Now, their cheers had morphed into venomous hisses, their eyes burning with a hatred that chilled her to the bone.Noelle clutched her lawyer's arm, his face a mask of grim determination. The cameras flashed, capturing her every move, every tremor of fear. The headlines screamed: “Pop Princess Plummets: Noelle Accused of Murder.” The irony wasn't lost on her. Her life, once a carefully constructed fairytale of fame and fortune, had become a grotesque tragedy.The trial was a circus. The whispers, the sneers, the relentless scrutiny – it was a constant assault on her senses. Her once loyal fans, the ones who'd plastered her face on their bedroom walls, now reveled in her downfall. They devoured every salacious detail, every whispered accusation, every tear she dared to shed.The verdict was a foregone conclusion. Guilty.Noelle watched the judge pronounce the sentence, her mind a whirlwind of disbelief and despair. Death by lethal injection.‘At least they did not give me the electric chair’ she thought to herself in a poor attempt at humor.Months later, a solitary figure knelt at her grave, the wind whipping at his hair. Rain lashed down, mirroring the tears that streamed down his face.“I'm sorry, Areum,” he sobbed, his voice hoarse with grief. “I'm so sorry I was too late.” He clutched a single, wilted rose, its petals stained crimson, a poignant reminder of the life that had been brutally extinguished.Noelle is a bright star who has the world at her feet, she feels no guilt about being the other woman coming between a husband and his wife. After all, Evan had been in love with her since they were teenagers. The only reason he married Ma-Ri was because his family demanded it, if he had a choice he would surely have picked her…When she gets wrongfully accused of murdering Ma-Ri, she loses everything and is sentenced to death, everyone including Evan turn against her and she is left to die a miserable death.She is reborn and this time she faces the humiliation of being the woman who is being cheated on. She is determined to end the cycle and not let the future she had seen come to pass, she decides to step out of the picture and focus on her career.In doing so, everything changes, Evan clings to her and refuses to let her go, a mysterious stranger who has been studying her also steps in and decides to fight for a chance to be with her.

In the past when someone mentioned getting married, Du Lei Si (Durex) would feel fearful enough to flee.

What is so good about getting married? Organizing a wedding ceremony is akin to spending money like running water. After giving birth, you must also raise the child. If you don’t maintain yourself well, you will get out of shape.

As a result, maybe a vixen will grab your husband and take your baby away.

Not getting married! Definitely not getting married!

However, fate is like this. Whatever you are afraid of, unfortunately, it will be given to you.

I was walking on the street, minding my own business, yet, impossibly, I encountered a stranger proposing marriage. He placed a dazzling diamond ring right in front of me. This handsome guy knelt down on one leg and looked at me with such a sincere expression: “Miss, would you please marry me?”

This, isn’t this like some drama?

After pondering over it, I decided that this surely must be a stunt from some television station’s new program. Invite a celebrity to pretend to be a passer-by who proposes marriage. This year, with the economic crisis, being a producer is not easy.

Thus, out of kindness, I accepted the diamond ring. Only to find out that all of this was actually real! The diamond ring is really and truly a genuine diamond from South Africa. Moreover, the groom is also a genuine rich man!

Actually, wasn’t this just like the legend of marrying into a rich and powerful family? I always feel that in front there is the belly black President who is like a ruthless wolf watching me attentively, and if I am not careful, he will tear me apart and swallow me into his belly. Whereas behind there is the crowd who do not know the truth, standing in a circle and watching as the drama unfolds. I still have not explained clearly but Mrs. President’s fame has already spread quickly from mouth to mouth.

This time, Du Lei Si really feels regret.

Who can tell me, can I not marry ah?

Mu Xi was reborn back to the age of eighteen, and became a waste of women disguised as men and abandoned by the family.

waste? Say who?

The mysterious master of metaphysics is she,

She is the dean of the medical world,

The great god of the game industry and the top of the hacker world is also her…

With countless vests, she suddenly became an almighty boss who turned her hands into clouds and covered her hands into rain.

*

“Mu Xi, as long as you come back, grandpa is willing to pass on the position of the head of the family to you.”

Mu Xi raised his eyelids lazily, looked at the old Patriarch Mu who was looking at him expectantly, and said word by word, “I don’t care!”

*

“Big brother! Big brother! I heard that you can do anything.”

Mu Xi smiled modestly, “I can’t say that, at least I won’t have children yet.”

The next moment, a figure passed by and carried away Mu Xi who was being interviewed, “Mrs. Ling, are you implying that I’m not working hard enough?”

*

Let’s see how the trash “juvenile” succeeded in counterattack and reached the pinnacle of life.

This article is one-on-one, double-strength, and cool.

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