Romance RPG - Part Twenty-four

“Mr. Zhang, it is said that you often make zombies work overtime without pay, is that true?” Zhang Ye, enraged, snatched the microphone that was pushed to his mouth and said righteously: “Who said that?” “I’ll sue them for defamation!” “Someone’s defaming me, you know!” As he spoke, he turned and grabbed a zombie, “Did I force you?” The zombie, silent, just went “Ugh ahhhh—” Zhang Ye immediately said, “See! He said no!” The next morning, the headlines of the Sanjiang Apocalypse Morning Post read: Zhang’s Group Chairman, Zhang Ye, not only admitted to making zombies work overtime, but he also abused a zombie in front of reporters, truly a man without conscience! Our newspaper expresses strong disdain for such a person! This book is also called “Who Let You Bring Zombies into the Factory”

Nanzhi only thought she had traveled into a novel about raising a child. Relying on her many years of “Wilderness Survival” watching experience, she hunts rabbits up the mountain for grilling every day, gropes for fish in the river to make soup, and diligently raises the child. Just when she thought her life was finally looking up and she could have her “second spring”, the “husband” who was rumored to have died hundreds of times suddenly appeared. Wait a second!She seems to have ended up in a novel where the male lead is the main character!Nanzhi? Isn't that the cannon fodder and deposed wife?PS: Not a web novel about farming, the female lead doesn't have a golden finger space system. Just turned eighteen and got into university, not a novel about a powerful female protagonist.

My name is Yan, and since I was a child, I’ve been able to see some strange things.For example—In elementary school, our new neighbor Aunt Tan had a pair of all-around genius twins, who were like the “precious little geniuses” with halos above their heads. They could recite the English-Chinese dictionary backwards at three, master both Chinese and Western musical instruments by five, and hack into a country’s database by seven…Growing up next to such prodigies, my life was inhumane, tragic, and constantly subjected to comparisons.To escape the comparisons with these “other people’s children,” I specifically applied to a private boarding school for middle school.On my first day, my deskmate was a small, thin girl with bangs, wearing an old uniform, and her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.Three months later, she woke up from a nap with a “rebirth” halo above her head.She moved effortlessly among the cold academic genius, the wolf-like school bully, the fierce boss, and the gentle childhood friend, leaving me, a lonely onlooker, utterly amazed.By university, I thought I had finally escaped this abnormal world.But as soon as I stepped into my dorm room, my footsteps froze.My roommates each had halos like “ancient times to modern,” “post-apocalyptic superhuman,” “will die if not spending money,” and “ghost king revival.”I clutched my little blanket and applied to the counselor for a room change, but to no avail.Over time, I gradually got used to it. “Handover systems,” “management systems,” “book transmigration,” “infinite worlds,” “three-and-a-half-year-olds,” “interstellar live streams,” “red envelope groups”…The types of halos kept increasing, and I was able to calmly ignore all of it, focusing on my own life.Every morning, I skillfully helped my “ancient to modern” roommate, who was being blacklisted online, dodge campus paparazzi and secure seats for class.At noon, I assisted my tycoon roommate in distributing today’s haul of luxury skincare and designer bags, tasting the city’s top private chef’s custom lunchbox, and exclaiming with emotion, “Darling, can I really accept these?”In the evening, I enjoyed the flowers and plants cultivated by my superhuman roommate on the balcony, tasting a mutated cherry tomato and commenting, “I feel refreshed and purified.”Late at night, when my ghost king roommate quietly climbed back through the window, I peeked out to ask, “You’re back a bit late today, didn’t bring anything back, did you?”My name is Yan, and I am not the protagonist of this world.

Xiamen to Melbourne, New York to Florence.Love in the realm of fashion, romance in the mathematics.A brand's global dream.