I transmigrated and got a husband and a son! - Chapter 1067: Sounds like a marriage

An eternal prison, a soulless body, a sealed spirit, everything lost.

To resign before merciless fate, or to become destiny!

“I lived in an illusion, I was lost, I could not find my home, I did not have a home… but why does it matter?! Between bowing to the threat of death and a spine that would never bend, I will choose the latter!”

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“Here you go, this is your wage for the week.”After passing over a small pouch, the woman with her legs crossed behind the desk casually made a 'Check' in a notebook and then, without looking up, waved her hand to dismiss him and said:“Remember to file your taxes... Next!”“Wait a minute!”After pouring out the coins from the pouch and looking at the eight large and one small, totaling nine filthy coins in his palm, Leon couldn't help but widen his eyes in shock, almost wanting to pounce on her and fight to the death right there and then.“Damn it! I just repelled the evil god who was trying to erode the world this Tuesday! You bastard even wants to deduct the salary of the savior?”

A smutty LitRPG with a futa lead.Long-running. Support me at Pat.treon.com/winterwhereof and receive early chapters.***Levels. Skills. Dungeons.As a nineteen year old living in modern society, these are terms Zoey is aware of. But had she ever expected to experience these videogame abstractions in the literal sense? To struggle through monster-infested realms, earning skills, casting spells, and acquiring rare and magical items?Obviously not.And more than the strange environment she finds herself in, Zoey contends with the bizarre reality of her class. Of being summoned by a sensual, perverted goddess who has gleefully bestowed a throbbing length between Zoey’s legs, then sent her off with a single unhelpful instruction: to save the world, and ascend to divinity while doing so.It’s all a bit much.But with so many cute girls to lay conquest to, and a new piece of equipment to help her along the way … well, things could be much, much worse.

To be is to have a soul. The soul begets a will. Wills accumulate into mysterious psychic forces, weaving secret domains within the fabric of reality.