Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess - Chapter 91 - A grisly meadow

A young man finally managed to become an immortal, a powerful cultivator able to lord over millions of souls. He took advantage of his tremendous luck and fortune to become the youngest immortal in history. He now wants to create his own sect and enjoy life, one filled with female disciples!

Three Emperors have died in quick succession. The prince whom nobody had taken notice of unexpectedly succeeds to the throne. He is quickly plunged into layers upon layers of danger. The Empress Dowager dislikes him, wishing to install a younger, more obedient Emperor. His half-brother dislikes him, accusing him of stealing the throne that is rightfully his. The palace attendants and servants dislike him, believing that he is not a true Emperor. The Child Emperor must save himself.

“Who would study psychology unless they had some issues?!”“Who said that?”Nan Zhubin raised an eyebrow: “He's right!”----------------------------Psychological-themed professional literature.Serious Keywords 1: [Depression] [Personality Disorder] [Hypochondriasis] [PTSD] [Oedipus Complex] [Groupthink], etc.Serious Keywords 2: [Big Five Personality Traits] [Behavioral Correction] [Dream Interpretation] [Sand Box Therapy] [Rational Emotive Therapy], etc.

The year was 2026, and the world wasn't what it used to be. Ever since the Abyss Gates cracked open three years ago, spilling monsters and dungeons across the planet, life had turned into a chaotic mess. Cities were half-ruined, half-rebuilt, and people clung to whatever normalcy they could find. Hunters—those brave or crazy enough to fight the monsters—became the new heroes. Everyone else? Well, they just tried to survive.Fin wasn't a Hunter. He wasn't a hero either.He was just… Fin. A lanky 19-year-old with messy brown hair, a chipped front tooth from a dumb skateboard accident, and a power that everyone called useless. Absorption. Sounds cool, right? Like he could suck up energy or steal someone's strength. Nope. All it did was let him “feel” things he touched a little more than normal. He could tell you the exact texture of a brick wall or how warm a coffee mug was—big whoop. No fireballs, no super strength, no flashy moves. Just a glorified touchy-feely trick.“Fin, you gonna eat that sandwich or just stare at it like it's gonna confess its life story?” Meg's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.He blinked and looked across the rickety table at his best friend. Meg was short, loud, and had a wild mop of dyed purple hair that she swore made her look “intimidating.” It didn't.