MTL - Travelling Through the Beast World: Beautiful Men, Line Up! - Chapter 271 People are popular

“His novel. His rules. His fight to take it all back.”Who would have thought Tavian would end up trapped inside his own novel?Not the chosen one. Not the villain.Just a forgettable extra with laughable stats and no place in the story he once ruled.And the protagonist he shaped into a perfect weapon?He’s real—and hunting him.Armed only with the knowledge of the world he created, Tavian has one choice: exploit the system he built… or be devoured by his own creation.He knows how the story is supposed to end.And he won’t let anyone else decide his fate—especially not the characters he once controlled.

At six, Jiang Huai stubbornly clung to the thighs of the fairy in white and wouldn’t let go. She took him back to the mountain and made him her only direct disciple.At fifteen, he changed his way of addressing his master from ‘mother’ to ‘sister,’ and after being severely beaten, he corrected himself to ‘Master’. Jiang Huai harbored a grudge in his heart for a full six years.At twenty-one, he learned how to talk back to his master.

Leaning against the attic window, Luo Manman was on the verge of falling.

Her long hair obscured her expressions. With an innately ugly face, even her best efforts could hardly make her figure remotely normal.

Just as she was somewhat inclined to end it all.

[Would you like a better appearance? In exchange for a different life?] A voice named Pandora sounded in her ears.

Luo Manman quirked her lips into a faint smile and gave an unexpected reply: I don’t want it.

[…..]

After Pandora offered her one benefit after another, Luo Manman agreed to this game of life.

Pretending to breathe with difficulty

Starting to peddle composure

The already filthy viscera

Buried under the striking appearance

Was the new life of this skin really a salvation?

Or a cover up of a thrilling sin?

A story about the intersection of skin and destiny unfolded…

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”