The Warmest Romance - Chapter 1480

One day, an alienation took place in the world.

The last object you touch will be strengthened and become part of your body. What will you touch?

The day has come.

Someone finally touched a cow. His bones turned into beasts, his body was tall and straight, with horns on his head, and he became the world-shaking cow demon king;

Someone finally touched a stone, and his skin could be petrified at will, making him invulnerable;

Someone finally touched a hair, and his body grew strange hairs, becoming a long-haired monster;

Someone finally touched…

In the end, Li Qingshan became a cultivator.

Just when Li Qingshan thought everything was on the right track, strange things happened to him…

When the alienation ends, the earth turns into a planet after a brief period of tranquility, crashing into a continent full of opportunities.

After being reborn, Li Qingshan has assumed the responsibility of protecting all human beings invisibly…

This is a chance, but also a disaster, if it were you, what would you touch?

- Description from novelbuddy

The Overlord, Kang Chul-In. The man who was so strong that he had to be defeated. Having lost, he must now go back in time to take up the challenge of becoming The Emperor in the Continent of Pangaea. Will Kang Chul-In be able to overcome the 9 other Overlords in order to grasp the Continent of Pangaea within his hands?

No NTR-IncestA Boy struggles with the problems of being raised in a family full of lewd older women.

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”