The Billionaire's Brokenhearted Deal - Chapter 38 - Expecting me to apologize to him Dream on

Earth, thousands of years after the apocalypse.

Countless technologies and advances had been lost to time as the Specters, horrifying beings with terrifying powers, arrived and destroyed the world.

Over the coming thousands of years, humanity had built itself up but always died again.

Nobody remembers the past.

Nobody remembers what humanity had once accomplished.

Now, everyone is living in a world where the Specters reign supreme.

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A boy with amnesia woke up in the middle of the Dregs, the worst part of Crimson Fungus City.

The boy grows up and manages to become strong enough to pass an exam for one of the most prestigious jobs in existence, a Zephyx Extractor, someone that can harvest the powers of Specters.

Sadly, he had already gained a power from a Specter in the past, which made him ineligible for the position.

But then, a mysterious man visits him.

And his luck finally turns around.

……………………………………………………………

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I don’t know how to write an introduction. The few times I wrote it before, the more I wrote it, the more ugly it became. Let’s keep it simple:

This is a Marvel fan novel, with a little added Hong Kong manga elements, if you haven’t read Hong Kong manga, it won’t affect the reading experience.

- Description from novelbuddy

To take a dragon's hoard is to challenge death.The greatest of the sea-drakes wakes, curled on his silver throne; but there is no silver. His hoard is stolen. He rises, screaming, and chases the thief to the ends of the world—only to be shot from the sky.But dragons do not die easy, and never one with such festering hatred. A dungeon core rises from his corpse.If he intends to survive so near the cove of pirates that slew his past self, he'll need to master his powers—and quickly. For these pirates are dragonslayers; they won't be felled by mere mushrooms or spiders.Beneath the lawless Calarata, the young dungeon core will have to fight to survive; and one day, he will return death to the man who killed him.

Weary reader, it is an honor that you have chosen this book amidst the heavy, dim library.Regrettably, this book is unwell.Your fingers should be able to feel the raised growths on the surface of its cover,Words written in bygone days are like parasites rooted in the pages, hoping for someone to observe their wriggling,To feel, to decipher, to touch the essence of this ailing story.If you insist on borrowing this book, please make sure to regularly check your own physical condition.