The Tyrant’s Beloved Doll - Chapter 92

When a terminally ill young man awakens in the world of his favorite childhood game, he realizes he isn’t the protagonist, the destined hero, or even a major side character. Instead, he has become an extra—a disowned noble barely clinging to relevance in a world where strength determines everything. Worse, his fate in the game was to die an early, meaningless death.Armed with only his knowledge of the game’s storyline and a common system that tracks his stats and skills, he is determined to survive. But mere survival isn’t enough. He remembers a hidden easter egg from a long-forgotten anime collaboration: the Mangekyō Sharingan—a power limited by game mechanics but unrestricted in reality.With Kamui as his trump card, he walks the fine line between fate and freedom, seizing power from the shadows while avoiding suspicion. As the protagonist and his allies battle against demons and unravel the game’s grand destiny, he secretly builds his own strength—manipulating events, mastering forgotten arts, and even forging ties with villainous factions.Will he remain a footnote in history, or will he carve his own legend in a world that was never meant to be his?

That day the sun set and never rose again...............Author Spotlight:Chen Dong — WebNovel's legendary titan behind global phenomena like 'Perfect World', 'The Sacred Ruins' and'World of Longevity‘— returns with his most ambitious saga yet. Crowned among the platform's all-time greats, this master of epic worldbuilding has dominated fiction charts for many times, with multiple novels adapted into hit games. When this trailblazer drops a new book, millions brace for sleepless nights.

The clock struck midnight when Ruelle heard the echo of footsteps. She tensed, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end in the cool night air.“You shouldn't be here,” Ruelle whispered, her voice a breathless murmur. The silhouette finally came to stand under the moonlight, his dark red eyes watching her and his inky black hair ruffling.“Shouldn't I?” His voice was a dark caress, and she stood there captivated by the danger he exuded like perfume.“I haven’t seen you for the last two days,” his tone low. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the silk of her nightgown, tracing the trembling outline of her collarbone. “Tell me, were you avoiding me, or perhaps... entertaining other offers?”Ruelle’s heart raced, her breaths shallow. She declared, “I don't belong to anyone.”“A bold claim,“ he murmured, his breath a tantalising chill against her skin as he leaned in. ”Yet here you are, pulse racing, your body tensed as if in anticipation of my touch.”His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face towards his. The moonlight caught his eyes, revealing a glint of predatory intent. “Or must I remind you whose touch you truly crave?”

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?”