MTL - There is Room For the Hot Lady In the Farmhouse - Chapter 843 night break into the boudoir

“You really want me to save people?”

Looking at the shivering victim in front of him,

Look at the [Owl’s Head Wire], [The Murderer’s Gift], [Universal Anesthetic], [Invisible Potion] in the item column…

Shiraishi touched the hideous mask on his face and fell into deep thought.

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“The Salary Thief in the Distillery”

“What does the vest do to me have anything to do with it?”

“There are limits to being a human being, I choose to be a cat…”

The magic version of Conan

- Description from novelbuddy

After a brutal day on the construction site,Jaxon collapsed onto his cot with nothing but sore muscles, a cheap dinner, and a phone in hand. Out of boredom, he picked up one of those mindless urban web novels—complete with arrogant young masters, all-powerful protagonists, and women falling in love every other chapter.“Who writes this garbage?” he muttered, tossing his phone aside and cursing the story, the characters, and the plot that made no damn sense.Then he woke up inside it.Not as the protagonist.Not even as comic relief.He’s the villain—the arrogant heir of a wealthy family destined to be publicly humiliated, slapped down by the protagonist over and over again.

Xiao Nanfeng has a deeply held secret: he retains memories of his past life on Earth. Trained as a scholar and wise beyond his years, he leverages his understanding to free himself from captivity and embarks on the path of cultivation. His goal is to find his missing parents, ten years lost. Loyal allies will accompany him, and fierce enemies will deter him—but talented cultivator though he might be, Xiao Nanfeng's greatest strength has always been his mind.

Original Blurb: Beneath the vast firmament, the brilliance of an era is but a fleeting moment, a flash of fireworks that vanishes in the blink of an eye. Look down upon the land, through countless ages, and witness the rise and fall of civilizations. Immortal sects, vast empires, sanctuary and holy ground—all are but specks of dust against the backdrop of the heavens; the glory of millennia, reduced to ashes. Yet from the depths of ruin, new sparks emerge. You and I, we strive to become towering trees that would pierce through the heavens. What lies beyond the celestial dome?

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