Memory Lost - Chapter 117: Until the End of Time Part 3

Kang Min-hyuk, the loser of the checkpoint, gained a high-level magical civilization and everything changed.

[sexual content and lemons warning]Warning: Sexual content, lemons, Comedy, MILFs, Genius Mc and his harem.Support the novel by adding to your library and with power stones!!*****Freshly turned eighteen, John Newman, a helpless nerd, suddenly gets video game abilities granted to him. A mysterious higher power, a secret Abyss of magic beneath the surface of the normal world, mages, martial artists, eroticism, tragedy and a harem of hot girls awaits.

Mu Sheng had researched quantum mechanics and engineered cross-sea bridges in her past life. However, she became a small-time celebrity plagued with a bad image overnight. This sad foolish woman was made to marry a sick man to counteract his bad luck. Even when her kidney and marrow were taken from her, she was glad to help. Memories of how her body’s original owner sacrificed everything for a scum flooded Mu Sheng’s mind, making her eyes roll.

The news exploded in the entertainment industry. Mu Sheng performed a 1440 degree somersault when she skied on an entertainment program and left everyone awestruck. The anti-fans felt she must have edited the image or hired a stunt double. Two weeks later, the International Ski Federation invited her to join them as a lifetime member. In time, government research, hacking, calligraphy and brush painting, and music associations all reached out for her to join their ranks one after another.

So what? She ended up marrying a useless man who was on the brink of death and would become a widow in a matter of time. Things did not quite play out as everyone expected. The useless Mr. Li did not die and ended up healthier than ever. He even shockingly turned out to be a mysterious big shot in the corporate world. Mu Sheng did not wind up a widow and Mr Li. loved her to bits.

Mu Sheng glanced at a man. “Now that you have been healed, can you sign the divorce agreement?”

Li Hanchen smiled. “There’s one more thing you haven’t healed.”

Mu Sheng frowned. “Are you still unwell?”

Li Hanchen said, “I love you to death and there’s no cure for it.”

He had found a ray of hope amid the darkness and her name was Mu Sheng.

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.