Martial Arts Escort System: I Got A Maxed Level Divine Technique From The Beginning - Chapter 202 - 135 Bullying People_3

Ye Sichen, a well-known singer with perfect appearance, is also a father of two kids. In the outside world, he is a charming star who cares about his fans and people in need. At his home, he is a lovely father and also a considerate master. A man with his fortune and statue, what bothers him so much?

Augustus Cross was a man close to his 30s with nothing to his name. People rolled their eyes at the seemingly useless man and he remained helpless even as his daughter was at the brink of death.When all hope seemed lost, the hidden dragon within him was unleashed when the seal broke accidentally as his birthmark was stained with his own blood. Knowledge of ancient arts filled his subconscious, granting him powers to cure his daughter and other incurable illnesses.A man who was once looked down by everyone is unstoppable now. What lies beyond this man with the power he now possesses?

Viserys Targaryen was born with the blood of dragons and yet lived his life in exile. He was a prince with a lost kingdom and a fading legacy, an immature bastard who died a pitiful death. Unfortunately, that same death was coming for me now… as I found myself in his body right before molten gold fried my brain.Yes. Fuck Khal Drogo, and fuck the molten crown.With the memories from another life, in this world of betrayal and broken oaths, I had the chance to forge a new destiny for myself. Armed with the knowledge of the future, my own cunning, and [The Dragon System], I made the choice to flee from the Dothraki barbarians and take back what was rightfully mine.

[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.