Second Life Ranker - Chapter 164 - The Monkey King's Palace (8)

Ysavel, an aspiring writer, wakes up one day inside the world of her own novel. She thought it's those typical transmigration story she have read. However, she was shock when she discovers that she's been cast as the villainess in her own story.

“DON'T TELL ME I BECOME THE VILLAINESS OF MY OWN STORY?!”

Shocked and dismayed, she realizes that the only way to return to the real world is to live out her role in the story. Initially, she accepts this fate, but things take an unexpected turn when the characters start deviating from the script.

“I don't want another Queen. Youare the only one I want as my Queen, Csille.” Prince Fraser whispered.

The male lead, who was expected to be annoyed by her constant pestering, instead becomes affectionate and attached to her.

“It's inevitable, Lady Lauretré. You will still be the Queen, so I don't see any harm in what I said. Besides, I doubt the King or even the Crown Prince would be willing to change their minds about your engagement.”

The female lead, who was supposed to separate the male lead from her, begins to play matchmaker between the male lead and the villainess.

What should she do? She couldn't get back to the real world if she didn't finished the story as the villainess. But how can she finished it if the two leads are not following the script? Help!!!

Rebirth, Xie Tingyue’s face is solemn, holding on to the unknown and the “Great Power Economy” that has always been with him.

Goal: Shun down all kinds of swords and swords, protect yourself, protect your brother, and protect the useless disabled husband.

Husband: The last three words, are you sure?

- Description from Novelupdates

“I saw with my own eyes that they used the finest, rustproof refined steel to make utensils and cans, filling them with just a little food, then casually throwing them away after eating.”“I saw with my own eyes that they used giant beasts as tall as mountains to devour soil and rocks, digging out underground cities, just to park their steel carriages beneath the surface.”“I saw with my own eyes that they fed glowing ores into an everlasting stellar furnace, unleashing a radiance brighter than the sun.”“I saw with my own eyes all those indescribable things.”“Their iron birds covered the sky, their steel ships filled the ocean, their war machines tore the earth asunder, and their gods walked upon the world.”“You must think I’m mad.”“But it doesn’t matter.”“It has already seen you.”——————Oil is Its blood.Thick smoke is Its breath.Ore and steel are Its food.The countless cargo ships in the harbors are Its myriad offspring.The place of origin stamped in the corner is Its silent mockery.They claim they are mere mortals.Child, you’d best not argue.You must understand:Their technology is beyond comprehension.Their production capacity is unimaginable.A mere glimpse of their creations will drive you insane.Their morale surpasses even the most fanatical worshippers of dark gods.How will you stop them?With your sword, child? Or your flesh and blood?You should be grateful that they still consider themselves mortals.——————“I’ve finished building my factory, and now you’re telling me this world runs on idealism?!”“Wait, then what the hell did I just create?”

BOOK TWO OF THE HAMILTON SERIESWARNING: A Regency Era novel. Adult content with detailed smut…Read at you own risk⚠️⛔️Genre: Historical Romance / Smut / Enemies-to-Lovers / Mystery / Comedy[Book Two of the Hamilton Series. Can be read as a standalone, but better enjoyed after Lady Ines’ Scandalous Hobby.]To the world, Duke Rowan Hamilton is the perfect gentleman. But in the bedroom, he is a man possessed.Rowan Hamilton has it all: a Ducal title, the face of a fallen angel, and a smile that makes debutantes faint. He is the “Golden Duke”—charming, responsible, and utterly adored by society.But it’s all a lie.Beneath the coats and polite manners, Rowan is a man haunted by a ghost. For three years, he has remained faithful to the memory of a masked woman who stole a kiss, bested him at a game of chance, and vanished into the night. He doesn't want any one as his wife; he wants her.When his domineering aunt tires of his bachelorhood, she hires London’s most notorious underground matchmaker to force the issue.Enter Miss Delaney Kingsley.She is sharp-tongued, infuriatingly competent, and entirely unimpressed by his title. Her mission? To drag Rowan to the altar with the season’s “Diamond,” Lady Celine, within three months to collect the juicy payment Rowan’s aunt had to offer.Rowan intends to fire the meddlesome woman. But when Delaney looks at him with those hazel, intelligent eyes and orders him around like a young lad, he feels the first spark of life he’s felt in years.He decides to play her game. He will let her “coach” him on how to woo a lady. He will let her teach him how to dance, how to flirt, and how to seduce.But he has no intention of using those lessons on Lady Celine.“You were hired to find me a Duchess, Miss Kingsley. But the only person I want in my duchy and in my bed... is you.”As the lessons turn into forbidden nights and the bickering turns into scorching passion, Rowan begins to suspect that his matchmaker is hiding a secret of her own.She moves like a shadow, handles a rifle like a soldier, and tastes exactly like the ghost he’s been hunting for three years.What to Expect:* The Golden Retriever Duke: Who turns into a possessive Alpha behind closed doors.* The Matchmaker Trope: She’s trying to marry him off; he’s trying to take her clothes off.* High Heat: Slow burn that explodes into intense smut.* Competence Kink: He falls harder every time she bosses him around.* Cameos: Featuring the chaotic domestic life of Duchess Ines and Duke Carcel (and their baby Harry!).Excerpt:“Your Grace, please focus,” Delaney snapped, adjusting his cravat with efficient, gloved hands. “Lady Celine is waiting in the ballroom. You must look at her as if she is the only woman in the world.”Rowan caught her wrist, stopping her movements. He stepped into her space, backing her against the heavy oak door of the study, his “Golden Boy” mask slipping to reveal the hunger beneath.“And how, exactly, does one do that, Miss Kingsley?” he whispered, his voice rough. “Show me.”“I—I cannot show you, I am merely the coach—”“Then teach me,” he growled, lowering his head until his lips brushed the sensitive skin of her neck. “Teach me how to pretend I am not burning alive every time you walk into a room.”