MTL - Douluo: My Martial Soul is a Simulator - Chapter 2 The simulator is not just a simulation of Wuhun

He is the strongest soldier of the Chinese Special Forces, and the ultimate demon in the eyes of the enemy. Now he is disarmed and returned to the fields, returning to agriculture and forestry, hiding in remote mountain villages and enjoying a peaceful life.

However, gold always shines, pure white and rich beauty wants to marry him, the president of Meiyan wants him to be his lover, and the hot police flower always wants to take him as his own, which makes the village chief very headache.

This is the life story of a young village chief with a stunt, soaking in the most beautiful beauties, drinking the strongest wine, and vigouring Niucha’s life.

- Description from novelbuddy

It was rumored that a woman beat her weak, poor, helpless husband in the middle of the night.

It was rumored that a woman gave up working hard to go to school with her bamboo stick.

It was rumored that a woman …… was simply not human!

Meng Changjin pressed her throbbing temples: “And it is rumored that today’s dinner would be simmer-fried carp!”

Fish System: Hey, hey, the host is not behaving again ~

- Description from Novelupdates

Kaito Nakamura, a shy university nerd, thought he’d found love when the stunning Aiko chose him as her boyfriend. Their sweet, fluffy romance fills his lonely world with hope—until he discovers she’s cheating on him with multiple guys, reveling in the taboo thrill of betraying someone so innocent. Heartbroken and humiliated as explicit photos of her circulate online, Kaito’s tears are interrupted by a mysterious popup: the “Revenge NTR System Beta.” Promising retribution but with a chilling condition — he can’t break up with her.Contains Ntr, read at your own risk

[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.