MTL - After the Divorce, I Was Spoiled By the Prince - Chapter 1 Self-recommended pillow seat

Intellectual Villages are old fashioned rural villages recreated with cutting edge technology. Those villages attract the Japanese monsters known as Youkai.

The high school boy Jinnai Shinobu lives in one of those villages and has a Zashiki Warashi living in his house. He tends to run across Youkai with unnerving frequency and this often leads to trouble for him.

The all-mighty CEO of the Mo Corporation, Mo Shiting, fell into a trap and got into a flash marriage, and the culprit was an unknown little girl.

Everyone was shocked!

It was said that the young master of the Mo family was cold-blooded, cruel, and decisive. The little girl must be in trouble now, they thought. But what they didn’t know was that this little girl, called Gu Li, was not only eccentric and thick-skinned, but she was also very good at sweet-talking. She was born to subdue Mo Shiting. Until one day—

Reporter: “Young Master Mo, please use a phrase to describe yourself.”

Mo Shiting: “A wife-doting maniac.”

Reporter: “Are there no other phrases you can use to describe yourself?”

Mo Shiting: “Afraid of my wife?”

Everyone else: “Young Master Mo, blink if you’ve been kidnapped.”

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .

This is a story of an ordinary boy gaining unusual powers from his nightmares… It all started when Lin Sheng experienced something strange on what he thought was just another normal day. He begins to have recurring dreams that lead him on an incredible journey of discovery as he encounters spine-chilling monsters and elusive secrets.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”