Mushoku no Eiyuu ~Betsu ni Skill Nanka Iranakattan daga~ - Chapter 40168-: I’M Glad My Wife Is A Common Sense Person

As a princess that could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne gets kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realizes that she’s in over her head.

She had heard of these cursed mountains before― rocky terrain, freezing temperatures, and the land was ruled by a man feared by many within the continent.

King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North.

Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus’s ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone’s imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring.

No one outside of Vramid had ever met the fearsome king before. Not until Daphne.

However, upon meeting the formidable man, Daphne found out that the king might not really be the monster others had claimed him to be.

In fact, what was hidden under that obsidian shield could just be a diamond in the rough.

―

[Excerpt]

“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

―

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Chen Heng is called a pervert.

For killing his sexual partner, the dejected gong forced him to bind with a cheap system.

He has played a series of roles such as: the Holy Mother, a foolish idiot, a wretch, a very perverted and very cruel tyrant… The goal is to get rid of the cheap system, and return to the original world.

Confessions of the small gong:

My lover is a pervert, he is very violent, arrogant, black belly, and vicious.

But I still love him.

I want to break his wings and cut off his limbs.

Capture him, possess him, collect him, and let him be mine.

Small shou: Scram! Don’t talk to me!

Small shou: arrogant, cold, black belly, vicious

Small gong: more arrogant, colder, more black belly, and more vicious

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”

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Perhaps the paintings in a museum are subjected to more nonsense than you would hear anywhere else in the world.The language that comes out of an artist’s life is the painting itself. It contains the most ordinary lives that know failure, desire, recoiling in fear, and compromise.Learning is about understanding that language. We miss much of what the paintings speak because there is no way to ask the long-dead painters about the philosophy of their lives.In an alleyway in the residential area of Jongno, there’s a peculiar art gallery. This place enables us to transcend such limitations. By sheer coincidence, I ended up visiting that place and began living an entirely different life.