Mr. Zhan's Little Demon is All Grown up - Chapter 390 - : I’m Willing

A woman with heavy makeup said, “My husband's net worth is over a hundred million, and all I need to do every day is go shopping for beauty treatments. I don't need to work at all!”

Suri Drew said, “Hmph, my husband's liquid assets alone are a billion. Did I mention it?”

A sexy lady said, “My husband is a master of judo and karate. I feel so safe with him!”

Suri Drew said, “My husband can take down ten strong men with his bare hands. It's just a piece of cake.”

Ding! Congratulations to the host for obtaining one billion in funds.

Ding! Congratulations to the host for acquiring top-notch combat skills.

Wife's boasting all became a reality.

Yigol Novak is a bit panicked as he said, “Honey, if you keep bragging, the entire blue star will be mine...”

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

At nineteen, Dexter was already one of the world’s most celebrated authors. His books topped charts. Critics praised his genius. Fans devoured every word. But behind the acclaim was a lonely boy—raised without parents, love, or real friends—just stories.He published his first novel at fourteen. By seventeen, he was a literary star. But the higher he rose, the hollower it felt.Then came the writer’s block. The headaches. The blackout. And the transmigration.Dexter awoke in the body of Daylan, a disgraced young man in a crumbling, medieval world laced with steampunk tech, divine law, and political unrest. Daylan had already failed two of the three sacred Trials—rites that determine one’s magical potential. He was drowning in debt, entangled in plots to overthrow a corrupt Divine Church, and branded a lost cause.With no way back, Dexter took the final Trial—the most brutal of them all—and began a path that would earn him the whispered title: Soldier, Poet, King.But as his powers grew, one question haunted him: Did he truly die? And if so, who—or what—chose to bring him back?

Beautiful doctor of Chinese medicine, Yu Gangan woke up from a coma one day to a cold, mysterious man. “Excuse me, you are…?”

A pair of profound eyes focused on her and replied, “Fang Zhihan, your husband.”

Did this man take her for a fool? He was obviously a fraud!

A little while down the track, he pulled her into his arms and whispered beside her ear, “Who am I?”

This time, Yu Gangan froze and replied, “Fang Zhihan, my husband.”

If he was a patient, then she was his sweetest medicine…

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