Post-apocalyptic World: Stockpile Ten Billion Supplies at the Beginning - Chapter 39

On the first day of their flash marriage, Fu Chenlie proclaimed to Wen Ran: 'I will absolutely not engage in any improper relations with you.'On the second day of their flash marriage, Fu Chenlie kissed Wen Ran.Wen Ran: 'Didn't you say you wouldn't engage in a relationship with me?'Fu Chenlie: 'I also said, don't talk back!'

[Ugly-duckling Transformation, weak to strong]The destitute young miss of the Ling family was weak, had lowly qualifications, was ugly and frequently bullied. In the end, she was pushed into the freezing river by her so-called love rival. However, when she opened her eyes once again, her gaze was cold yet captivating! Everything had changed drastically! When her ugly looks faded, she became a peerless beauty. When she displayed her graceful bearing and talent, it was blinding and earth-shattering!I'm a foodie and I'm proud of it. I have a venomous tongue to infuriate people to death, but I won’t compensate with my life.All the handsome men would give their all just to make her smile, which provoked his desire to dominate and possess her. However, in the end, was it him who dominated her…

Allen, a 23-year-old gaming enthusiast, eagerly awaited the revolutionary MMORPG, Hell's Gate: Battle Against The Devil Emperor, a new game with promising unprecedented levels of realism and interactivity. When the day finally arrived, he ripped open the packaging with excitement and donned the sleek VR headset.

The soft cushioning pressed against his face, transporting him to the dark and foreboding landscape of Hell's Gate. Unbeknownst to him, the game developer had selected him to play a crucial role, the main villain of the game, the devil emperor himself.

The stakes grew ever higher. But with his own innate gaming skills and the support of his allies, he knew that he could emerge victorious and claim his rightful place as the ultimate villain of Hell's Gate.

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Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.