Rebirth of the Nephilim - Chapter 490: Pulverize

Luo Hong was standing in front of the mountain gate of Huangfeng Valley. At this moment, he had to admit the fact that he had traveled to “Mortal”.

Pushing the glasses that no longer existed, Luo Hong said categorically, “Like Old Devil Han, I am a fourth-grade pseudo-spiritual root, but I don’t have a vial. It seems that the only way I can go is to cultivate immortals scientifically!”

Why is there a bottleneck every fourth floor during the gas refining period?

How to maximize the chance of building a foundation?

How many factors affect the speed of cultivation?

How fast is Old Devil Han running?

When cultivating immortals in this world is an objective fact, then science is cultivating immortals, and cultivating immortals is science!

Deduction group: 607277622, ​​come and play, Mr. Shitu has already moved in.

- Description from novelbuddy

After Song Juyao died and emerged from the virtual world, she learned that her entire life had just been a reality show which was led and controlled by others.

One billion viewers watched this live broadcast, all of them pointing fingers at her and ridiculing her life whilst the director team thought up every possible method to design setbacks for her, pulling her into the mud over and over again.

Then, Song Juyao was reborn. This time, her memory was not suppressed.

This was a crazy world. People were discontent and bored of their lives. They had also lost their enthusiasm for various kinds of entertainment, falling to the point of seeking all sorts of thrills in order to arouse their emotions.

Later, they found a precious treasure. She was perfect. They held her in the palm of their hands and went wild for her. They even regarded her as a God and worshipped her fanatically.

- Description from Novelupdates

Vampire Slave Number 43, or the self-named, Azriel Ruinous, learned about the history between the humans and the Vampires and it filled him with rage and hatred.

Nonetheless, he was helpless to do anything.

After years and years of suppression, the Vampires have become the weakest race in the world.

However, lady luck seemed to be on his side as Azriel found an ancient jar filled with mysterious blood that will not only change his, but his race's destiny as well.

This, will be the story about the rise of the self-named, Azriel Ruinous, and the Return of the Forgotten Blood Empire.

...

“Have you heard about the rumour?”

“What rumour?”

“They say that there's a Vampire on the loose, he's out there killing humans mercilessly”

“Hahahaha! That's the funniest joke I ever heard! Vampires? Those Slaves? Hahaha!”

“Yeah, I feel the same! I think someone just started this rumour as a joke! Hahaha! How can those weaklings kill us, humans?”

“True True…”

In a bar, two middle-aged men talked and laughed as they discussed the recent rumour they heard.

Seeing those two, a drunk old man shook his head as he sighed.

“Ignorance is bliss indeed…”

“These younglings do not know what the real fear is…

The vampires may have fallen… but my old bones still remember the days when they were in their prime…”

The old man sobered up in an instant and his body shuddered in fear as the memories of the long-forgotten horror appeared in his mind.

He then took a deep breath as he patted his trembling body and muttered.

“I just hope that they are not back…”

Tang Qiu was a substitute bride–forced to take her half-sister’s place and marry the young master of the Jiang family, a deformed cripple with less than 6 months left to live.

“Who would have thought that even a sickly whelp like Jiang Shaocheng would find himself a bride?”

“I hear that he’s practically on his deathbed and he’s only marrying the Fengs’ daughter to improve his lifespan.”

Tang Qiu ignored the whispers around her and focused on her husband-to-be, who coughed violently in his wheelchair. At the altar, after they had said their vows, she lifted her veil and knelt in front of Jiang Shaocheng, pressing a hesitant kiss to his lips.

The marriage contract was signed. No matter his physical deformities, he was now her husband.

She wasn’t afraid of the scars that marked his face, nor was she repulsed by him being confined to a wheelchair. Every morning, she made him breakfast, attended to his needs, and thought of little else beyond her duties as a wife.

“Young Master Jiang is a cripple who can’t get it up,” her best friend argued. “When he dies, you’ll still be untouched. You should set your sights higher.”

“A sickly invalid like Jiang Shaocheng can’t give you happiness,” her ex-boyfriend insisted. “I’ll wait for you.”

But Young Master Jiang only scoffed. “I have plenty of time left to be with her.”

Later in their marriage, Jiang Shaocheng wanted to enjoy his little wife in all ways–the press of her lips against his, the brush of skin on skin; the way a husband and wife were supposed to. But Tang Qiu refused him, blushing. “No, we can’t. The doctor says you can’t exert yourself.”

Jiang Shaocheng’s desire was surging through him, a heat in his core that demanded to be satiated. He cursed, I should have gotten rid of that doctor and the wheelchair long ago.

But he yearned to make love to his little wife, and so he revealed his true identity. In the blink of an eye, the deformed cripple transformed into a powerful businessman–tall, dark, and handsome. He quieted Tang Qiu’s protests, his body positioned over hers, his arms caging her as she lay on the bed. His voice was low when he asked, “What about now?”