MTL - Game Design: It is Very Simple For You To Fill In? - Chapter 168 Children Raised by Plants vs. Zombies

After a year of marriage, Timothy Xavier suddenly became uninterested in women, devoting himself to building a Buddhist altar in the villa, with Buddha Beads never leaving his hand.No matter how much I tried to entice him, he remained indifferent, completely unmoved.One night, I stood outside the bathroom door, watching him release his emotions towards a photo of another woman.It turns out, Timothy was not unfeeling; he was just unfeeling towards me.I deceived him into signing the divorce agreement and disappeared from his world completely.Yet I heard, he went crazy looking for me!We met again at his uncle's wedding. I was dressed in a white wedding gown, but his eyes turned red, and he could not bring himself to call me 'aunt'!

Regardless on how developed a society becomes, assassins and prostitutes will never cease to exist. There’s no need to think of the former as anything mysterious, and there’s no need to look down on the latter. They are simply doing their jobs.

When Tang En crossed over planes, he was forced into this murderous and hopeless profession.

“You have great talent for assassination.”

Tang En: “Huh, I have this kind of talent?”

“That’s right, your looks are exceedingly plain, this is very useful to assassins.”

“……” Tang En, “But I haven’t even managed to kill a chicken.”

“Irrelevant, assassins don’t need to kill chickens, only people.”

“……”

The story is about a plain college graduate crossing over worlds after dying in an awkward situation. Inheriting the game-like Assassin System and a badass butler from the transition, he now has to adapt to survive in this dangerous, new world. Set in a Western Fantasy Universe.

- Description from Novelupdates

I was just taking a quiet late-night walk when I found… a child sleeping inside a dumpster.One thing led to another, and suddenly I became the accidental father of a kid no older than ten.The next morning, I woke up from a vivid dream. A mysterious Victorian woman whispering about “calamity, dungeons, portals, another world… yeah, good luck bro.” She said all of that in the most casually elegant Victorian tone imaginable.But the real nightmare started when a floating screen appeared in front of me, spouting nonsense about quests and objectives.The day I picked up a child in a dumpster was the day my ordinary life ended.And that was when our story truly began.

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.