My Dad, the Demon King, Is a Big Problem - Chapter 19

Mercenary King Qin Chuan returns back to the city and is arranged by his finance to work as a security guard in the super department store.

Accidentally he is drawn into the struggle with the department store.

What is mine don’t touch, what is not mine you also put it down for me!

After three years continues the legend of the security guard. Watch how the little security guard dominate the city~

Temporary every day 9-11pm, morning 9 evening 5, weekends midnight.

- Description from Novelupdates

Defiance of natural order of a single young Dragon soul.

The dead broke small streamer Zong Qi received a random message one day.

Zong Qi: ? tr*sh commercial, deleted

That night, he got pulled onto the set of a horror film and was informed that if he didn’t shoot it… He’ll die.

He was lucky that the actors were all working as hard as they could, and the director only needed to stand around and watch the show.

But because he had been given way too much, Zong Qi didn’t hesitate at all before making his own changes.

Under his false identity was an ‘evil mastermind’ that fought with the actors on everything.

The immoral things he’s done on set include but aren’t limited to–

Personally putting makeup on the ghost, teaching actors how to mess and change the script, switching ‘sides’ at crucial times…

People as arrogant as him usually don’t have good endings when their identities were revealed.

What Zong Qi didn’t expect was that instead of the actors joining up for revenge, an unlucky bastard’s whose plans had been spoilt by him countless times appeared instead.

The man took off his glasses, revealing a pair of closed eyes, his face beautiful and cold.

The brush dipped in paint hooked past the young man’s neck, full of danger.

“You dirtied my brush.”

He smirked, drawling, “As punishment, I’ll dirty you.”

- Description from Novelupdates

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.