Demon Immortal - Chapter 24: How dare you lay your hands on me?

There were women approaching me, who had decided to die.

Seventeenth-line actor Liang Xiao debuted for five years, and he is not tepid.
Because he was photographed frequently haunting the villa of the president of Star Crown Pictures, he became famous overnight on the Internet.

In the villa’s bedroom, Liang Xiao washed up and lay down on the pillow, concentrating on playing games with his mobile phone.

“President, are you ready to bite? I’ll go off work after you bite.”
2.
As the president of Star Crown Pictures, Huo Lan has a secret.
He is a special mutant alpha. Only by regularly marking matching omegas can the pheromone remain stable and not get out of control, otherwise it will be life-threatening.
President Huo didn’t look like O, so on the first day we met, he pushed the bank card and the contract to Liang Xiao indifferently: “Everyone takes what they need, don’t think about what they shouldn’t think about.”
Liang Xiao was bitten diligently, took money steadily, and played games with peace of mind.
Until he became a hit in the big production invested by Star Crown Pictures.
In the face of the overwhelming amount of black materials, Liang Xiao ran home and found out the contract, ready to ask the president to help him clarify the truth.
Huo Lan’s eyes darkened, he took over the contract, scrambled into a ball in front of countless cameras and microphones, and pulled the person back to his side.
“Don’t panic.” Liang Xiao was pinched by the waist and pressed against the wall. He calmly hugged Mr. Huo, who buried his face in his neck, and turned to his manager calmly, “He wants to clear my innocence now.”
3.
The broker is crazy.
[Muffled and deserted President Attack x Shattered Mouth Sand Sculpture Health Suffering]
[abo has no children, let go of the little sweet biscuits easily]
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Content tags: Fantasy space, wealthy family, entertainment circle, sweet text
Search keywords: protagonist: Liang Xiao; Huo Lan ┃ supporting role: agent; housekeeper ┃ others:
One sentence introduction: Mr. Huo, how are you?

- Description from novelbuddy

Humanity's end came without warning when a crimson fog swallowed the sky. Zhao, an ordinary man, watched in horror as a celestial voice declared their fate: their Planet had reached its limit, and its people would now atone for their sins. An otherworldly force crushed resistance, and in an instant, every human was teleported to the Central Land, a vast and hostile realm.The voice from the heavens promised trials that would shatter their wills, but also power beyond imagination for the fortunate. Only those blessed by luck would awaken unique Lord Talents, granting them the means to survive and dominate:In a world where strength lies supreme Zhao will do whatever it takes to get stronger.Zhao awoke in an isolated area near a forest. As despair set in, a voice echoed in his mind:Ding… Million Times Multiplier System has been activated.Just as the rest of the players had known of the world Zhou's subjects were clearing out every resource.When others were building their base he had built a kingdom.And by the time they knew of his threat, HE HAD ALRDY BECOME GOD!

I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.