I will become the Demon Immortal known to the whole world - Chapter 23 Demonic Path Conference

All Amy needed to do was get away from her pursuers. The last thing she thought she'd encounter was being kidnapped, drugged and offered to some smelly fat old man.

But no, he wasn't any of that. Zach was simply a god. And he was drugged, just like her. It could be the drugs or she just genuinely found him irresistible. And to her luck, he didn't resist her when she made a move on him. When she found out how much of a beast he was in bed, she wasn't complaining.

But she knew they were not supposed to cross paths. So when she finally left the next morning, little did she know that fate had a 'little surprise' in store.

At six, Jiang Huai stubbornly clung to the thighs of the fairy in white and wouldn’t let go. She took him back to the mountain and made him her only direct disciple.At fifteen, he changed his way of addressing his master from ‘mother’ to ‘sister,’ and after being severely beaten, he corrected himself to ‘Master’. Jiang Huai harbored a grudge in his heart for a full six years.At twenty-one, he learned how to talk back to his master.

Every story needs a great evil for the hero or heroine to defeat…

The wicked stepmother who torments Cinderella.

The fearsome dragon who kidnaps the princess.

The fake rich daughter who bullies the real.

An evil demon queen hell bent on destroying the world.

Yet sometimes these villains defeat the heroes.

Agent 214 has been tasked to enter these dangerous worlds and eliminate these evil villainesses before they have the chance to win.

But why is every story a little different than what it first seems?

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.