MTL - You Look Like You’re Made of Money - Chapter 10

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?”

“You can consider sleeping on the streets.”

“Well, I’ll sleep in the study, then.”

At night, he abducts his freshly-showered wife into the study. She shrieks, “Sheng Nanxuan! What are you doing?!”

“Sleeping… in… the… study!”

The next day, his wife dashes out of the room with tears in her eyes and a sore waist. That isn’t what she meant by “sleeping in the study”…

[By the Author that brought you “Return of the Frozen Player”!]The Return of the Fallen Tower Master: The Revival Era of the Magic Tower

It was a cold and lonely death on the battlefield despite the thousands of warriors around me and the beating sun shining upon my corpse.

In the year 431, I had died on the battlefield.

I was reincarnated into a new world, hoping my life would be better, but I ended up in a more miserable situation than before.

As the sickness began to eat the insides of my mother, a saving grace that would pull me out of the darkness, but into the abyss... had come.

[A system is being chos-

[Interference by higher being]

[Error]

[Authority is insuffici-

[Error]

[Authority is sufficient]

[Your god has been selected]

[Your system has been granted]

[Ares System is being installed]

The afterglow of the Middle Ages has not yet dissipated, but the best times have come.

The protagonist travels through Edward VI of the Tudor (duo) dynasty in the 16th century, centralizes power, rebuilds the parliament, and establishes the United Kingdom of Britain. It will take you to experience the most powerful dynasty in Britain, the dawn of the empire on which the sun never sets.