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... e.

This kind of dialogue that says that the style of painting can be completely different, suddenly it is what is the ghost? !

Fang Hao didn't say anything for a while. He didn't think that now is a good time for confession. It doesn't mean that the atmosphere is not suitable, but he knows that Tang Yan does not have any special feelings about him.

So even if it is said, it has no effect.

“There is nothing special,” he said. “Just suddenly thought of asking a word, do ...

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This is a time of great powers: The vast Persia, Sparta that is founded by force, Athens with its trade and business, Thebes the rising star, The ambitious Macedonia, The twin heroes of the Western Mediterranean, The rising Rome and so on.

This is an era of brilliant stars: Agesilaus II – the last king of Sparta, Epaminondas – the Rising General of Thebes, Philip II – the founder of Macedonian hegemon, Dionysius – the tyrant of Syracuse, Camillus – the Roman dictator and savior…

This is an era of contention among a hundred schools of thought: Plato – the great philosopher, Antisthenes – founder of cynicism, Pythagoras – school of number, Democritus – the encyclopedia scholar, Hippocrates – the father of western medicine, Aristophanes – the great dramatist…

What will the hero bring to the world when he comes to this age as a humble mercenary through rebirth?

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By a series of freakish accidents, she provokes the feared and mysterious “God of Night”.

When someone bullies her, he says, “Only two types of people bully my wife: those who haven’t crossed her path, and those who have already died. Which do you want to be?”

When someone questions her, he says, “Everything my wife does is right! Those who disagree can have a little chat with me!”

When he goes home, he pleads in a low voice, “Wifey~ Can I not sleep in the study today?”

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You’d think seeing the future would give me a head start on surviving the apocalypse. I had it all planned—until everything I knew shattered when my husband sacrificed himself to save me and our son. Now it’s just me, my three-year-old son Leo, and my cursed gift of foresight that only seems to kick in when it’s nearly too late.I’m doing my best to keep us safe, to find food, to make some kind of plan—“Mommy?”I glance down, trying to ignore the tug on my pant leg as I focus on our supplies. “Not now, Leo. Mommy’s thinking.”“Mommy!”I sigh and finally look down. My three-year-old is standing there, clutching… I blink. “Leo, where did you get a knife?”He shrugs, grinning like it’s the most natural thing in the world.My heart stutters. “No, really. Where did you find that?”I try not to laugh. I mean, he’s three. Maybe he just—found it somewhere? But the next day, it’s a water bottle. Then, a tiny flashlight, somehow with batteries still inside.I don’t even know what else; he’s pulling things out one by one with the pleased grin of a kid who’s just figured out his favorite game.Well, we may just survive this mess after all.Now, if only the universe could have spared me from him. I don’t even know his name, but I know his type: tall, broad, and annoyingly handsome, with an air of calm control that’s out of place in this chaos. Ex-military, if I had to guess, with a voice that’s just as infuriating as his smirk. The man has a habit of showing up at the worst—or best—possible times, with a gun at the ready and secrets buried as deep as those bright green eyes.I mean, he’s probably useful, but I’m trying to keep my eyes on the prize here: survival.For Leo and me.Because, foresight or no foresight, nothing is guaranteed in this new world—except the fact that people like him are trouble.

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