Bloodlines of Betrayal - Chapter 49: part S2: Dance of Shadow

He has won the most flamboyant compliments and the most vicious swear words.

He is a guy with rebellion flowing in every vein in his body.

He’s a white kid who’ll never be a celebrity.

He is a young man from the countryside in the eyes of the public.

He’s Tommy Hawk.

He was born again.

Welcome to the first half of the American Dream and the second half of the American Nightmare.

Let us please, come Tommy Hawke, in the winter of 2022.

- Description from novelbuddy

Why build a harem……when you can steal everyone else’s?Rejected without confessing. Friendzoned before even speaking.Too bad for them—he’s done being average.Armed with a system that thrives on charisma (even if his starts at rock bottom), sharp tongue, and unmatched game sense, Eiden isn’t here to play nice. He’s not the hero, not the villain—he’s the damn glitch in the story.The protagonist ?? He’ll outwit them.The arrogant beauties? He’ll make them kneel.The childhood sweethearts, the princesses, the cold beauties?They’ll come to him. Willingly.This isn’t your story. It’s his conquest.And no harem is safe.

The truck driver brought Ling Xuan to the parallel world World Blue Star for the year-end award.

Here, the physical body travels to replace Ling Xuan, a senior high school boy with the same name and surname, and obtains a check-in system.

(The introduction is pale, please see the content for details.)

- Description from novelbuddy

I once believed I was the heroine of a modern fairytale, blessed with beauty, wealth, intelligence, and a powerful legacy. Men adored me, women envied me, and I was engaged to the most desirable man, Cole Fay. My life seemed perfect, a dream where I held the starring role. But on my eighteenth birthday, that illusion crumbled. The truth hit me hard: I wasn’t the protagonist, nor even the villain or a side character. I was just cannon fodder, a disposable part of someone else’s story. But when fate recognized the cruel joke of my life, I was granted a second chance. This time, I’ll write my own story, living for myself. And this time . . . I will never love you again.