Overgeared - Chapter 1992

Ethan Smith walked down the empty street, cigarette in mouth, shaking his head and forcing a bitter smile. Who could have imagined that after three years of marriage, all that remained was betrayal?

He vowed to make that woman regret what she had done and promised to make everyone who had been good to him live a good life.

Yes, it was Emily Taylor, the woman who had helped him out of the abyss of despair when he hit the lowest point in his lifetime.

“Emily, it's time for me to take care of you.”

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What's the book about? It is about Demonic Cultivation!, If you cannot handle it, Please don't read it.Synopsis:When Song Wen killed the frail beggar who fought him over food and consumed his blood and soul, every cell in his body leaped with excitement. His spirit was exhilarated, and he realized then that his life would henceforth be filled with slaughter. For survival, for longevity, he would spare no effort, even if it meant creating mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

One morning, after being bound to the system, MC started his routine of always being captured/ attacked by the ML.

It doesn’t matter if he transmigrated into the ML’s little brother (TN: Here I think brother disciple) or master or opponent, but in the end he is still forcibly taken by the ML.

After transmigrating to many worlds:

MC: Come out system!!! The heck?! Why do these MLs not love their female goddesses, but insist on doing it with me! Aaaaahh!!!

System: …. __(:3」∠)_ Don’t ask me, I also don’t know.

- Description from Novelupdates

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.