Pampered by the Billionaire - Chapter 67 - 66 His Restlessness Only for Her_1

Due to a problem in his soul, Rean never cared about anything in his life. Even though he died heroically, there wasn’t really a 'will' behind that action.

Eight Thousand Years after the Glassing of Earth, Terran Descent Humanity has largely become a post-scarcity society based on consent and enjoying life. With the discovery of another ancient race beyond the “Great Gulf”, events and history collide to draw the Terran Confederacy into war against a hundred million year old empire that has always won and believes it always will. With allies and enemies of multiple species, the Orion Galactic Arm Spur will be wracked by warfare the likes of which have not been seen. Cracked, harried, wounded, and damaged, Terran Descent Humanity willfully throws itself against the universe itself. “The universe hates you and will take away everything you love, laughing while it does so.” - Terran belief.

A bloodsucking mosquito with the soul of a student, seeking revenge, rose from being weak to powerful, step by step from this unassuming life planet 'Earth', becoming a powerful force in the entire universe!Literary version: Reborn as a larva, striving for self-improvement, and ultimately transforming into a terrifying giant mosquito. From then on, I roamed freely across the universe, traveling the vast universe's starry sky!Passionate version: You weak cosmic creatures! I'm using my mouthparts to consume the core nutrients of your mother star. What can you do about it?Funny version: You think I'm disgusting? You hate me because I suck blood? Want to swat me dead with one slap? Just wait, one day I'll stomp your house down!

[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.