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... g rains, they would grow very quickly.

It had just bloomed and some had grown some small seeds.

It was not ripe yet.

“Damn it, even if it’s ripe, it’s fine if he ate it. It hasn’t ripened yet. Isn’t this a waste of food?!”

Third Aunt Hu became angrier and angrier as she spoke. She simply sat on the big rock outside Old Wang’s house, holding the beanstalk in her hand and cursing.

Old Madam Wang was naturally unhappy and came out to argue with her.

T ...

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He was Chaos, the shattering soul that was deemed to wreak havoc and the cause of thousands of deaths.

Fear was a cloak that engulfed his existence.

He didn’t want anything except to find every piece of his damn soul, until the little white wolf entered his life. He wanted her.

Chaos didn’t care if he had to spill blood more than necessary, still he wanted her.

“You will put yourself in a battle against them,” He said begrudgingly. “Give up the girl.”

Yet, he stared into his eyes and he knew he wouldn’t be able to change his decision, as if it was already written on the stone.

“The girl stays. Touch her and I will show them what Chaos is.”

.....

MTL - Host, I’m Here To Accompany You To PretendChapter 365
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“The host has come to the days of your old pretending.”

Chen Mo was stunned for a moment, and put down the polished Shiwang drive in his hand.

“It’s time.”

After finishing speaking, Chen Mo came to an empty square, took out the divine light stick and shouted loudly: “Dija!”

Yukino Yukino: “My turn, draw a card!”

Kasumi Hill Shiyu: “theworld!”

Eri Sawamura: “Henshin!”

Kaguya Shinomiya: “This is an equivalent exchange!”

Kato Megumi: “Walking in the dark, serving the light, everything is empty, everything is allowed!”

Why is the flower of the high mountain of the academy addicted to playing cards? Why did famous fiction writers twist in strange poses? Why are famous painters in the industry inseparable from toys? Why do rich daughters believe in alchemy? Why do ordinary passers-by wear cloaks?

And why did Yangyang Huaxia frequently appear in the Xiuxian sect?

Looking at this gradually becoming strange world, Chen Mo said that all this has nothing to do with him.

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Little One Tears the Villain’s ScriptChapter 368
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Jiang Xiaoman was bound to a system when she was three years old. The system told her that she was the lost daughter of a wealthy family assigned to play the cannon fodder in this script. The fake daughter that her parents adopted was the heroine of the story. 

Jiang Xiaoman blinked her eyes and asked, “What is a cannon fodder?”   

System: “You all live in a book, and everyone is assigned their role. From now on, you should keep on blackening and be a bad child. Do you see that little boy? He has a bigger role than you, in the future, he will become the big bad villain. Why don’t you bully him now, and show him up real good!” 

The naïve Jiang Xiaoman picked a handful of colorful flowers and stuffed them into his hands. “I’m showing you something really good!” 

System: “…”

Darling, you got it all wrong! Not showing him something good that way!

The little boy: “I don’t need friends, I don’t need company. I’m just a burden that no one wants. It’s my destiny to be abandoned.” 

Jiang Xiaoman: “That’s wrong. Everyone’s existences have meaning. System said you are especially important, even more important than me. You’ll be a really really useful person in the future!” 

System: “…??”

Did it say that?? 

Later on, the system stopped giving Jiang Xiaoman any tasks. Jiang Xiaoman was very sorry and said, “Mr. System, why won’t you play with me anymore?” 

System: “… just try to grow up first and learn to understand every word! You’re killing me!!” 

Jiang Xiaoman worked hard to blacken (not really) under the system’s supervision until she was reunited with her wealthy parents. She scratched her little head and asked, “Mr. System, what about the task? Didn’t you say that we should fight over the family’s wealth?” 

System: “What kind of wealth do you still want to fight over? You already have more money than your wealthy parents!”

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It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.