MTL - Super Soldier King - Chapter 7868 Four ancestors

In a survival game to select new Gods, mankind is summoned to another world filled with different races.

Hyperthymesia. Those with this condition can remember every detail of their lives from something as significant as the world’s turning point to something as small and as insignificant as a minor fleeting thought. They cannot forget and their thirst for knowledge allows them to be considered genius in some senses.

Legend has it that Ji Yushi was this kind of genius.

In addition, it was said that he was gay and very beautiful.

As soon as the news that he was going to support Tianqiong’s seventh squad broke out, it sent everyone buzzing.

Everyone knew that the captain of the seventh squad, Song Qinglan, was a hoodlum and deeply homophobic.

He not only relied on his super-powerful abilities to become the dark horse on the battlefield in less than two years, but he also hates it when those at the top forces a flower vase* into his squad.

Sure enough, Song Qinglan announced in front of everyone, “Useful? Us brothers are going out there working ourselves to the bone, we don’t need a little genius who can only speedread quantum waves!”

Later.

The squad was forced into a dire situation during their mission.

That beautiful little genius calmly continued, every gunfire hitting the mark, his fighting power peaking.

Song Qinglan begged in front of everyone, “Adviser Ji, stay.”

In the end, he added, “I’ll work myself to the bone for you.”

*****

Ji Yushi had a secret.

He would often be awake at night, suffering from memory overload and recurring nightmares.

There was only one thing that could let him fall asleep peacefully.

And that was Song Qinglan.

*Flower vase: Someone who only looks pretty but can’t amount to much

Living on the streets of Orchard's Reach, Sen never dreamed about becoming a cultivator. He barely even knew what cultivation was, let alone wanted to do it. When fate intervenes, though, he finds himself the disciple of a cultivator. Like all who find themselves on the path to defying the heavens, Sen will have to decide what kind of person he wants to be and what kind of mark he wants to leave on the world.

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.