Future News: My Phone Mutated - Chapter 245 - Gossip

Du Wan passed away and became a short-lived cannon fodder.

She was cheated out of the mine by the male protagonist, her gold finger was stolen by the female protagonist, and even her mother-in-law who took care of her was killed by the male protagonist.

So, when the injured villain came to her for help——

Thinking of the story about Mr. Dongguo and the wolf, Du Wan said quietly: “Young master, everyone is destined to die, so you should go with peace of mind. Be good, stop struggling, it’s useless.”

Villain Pei: “…”

There is a saying in MMP that I don’t know whether to say or not…

Everyone knows that Pei Haofeng looks like a dragon and is both civil and military, but they don’t know that he is also a bit petty and loves to hold grudges.

He was very upset about her failure to save her.

then……

[ps: The little cannon fodder fought against three top bosses at the beginning! ]

- Description from novelbuddy

He had always wished to live a new, ordinary life. That was his one and only wish.

But the world did not allow him to.

‘I wanted to live ordinarily, but you’re the ones who provoked me first!’

Who was the one who provoked the sleeping lion first?

It’s now time to witness the great Demon Master’s reproval of the modern times!

……………………………………………………………

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Ever since Yang Fan returned to the village, the young women had been practically breaking down his door...

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.