A Wish to Grab Happiness - Volume 11, Chapter 279: Something that Captures the Spirit

The world is in an age of change between the old and the new society, and the collision of politics, economy, thought and culture is becoming more and more violent.

Moster Verak, a photographer from the slums of Zward City, was reborn two months ago, starting from impersonating the son of a consortium again, stirring everything and subverting the world in the turmoil of rapid industrial development and wild expansion of ambition.

[Overhead world, please do not compare reality]

- Description from novelbuddy

Zayn, a wealthy second-generation who was in the prime of his life was known as the “Perfect Human” for mastering various fields of expertise until the peak of perfection was stabbed to death by his fiancée. Because of the cancellation of their engagement, his former fiancée turns out to love him obsessively, so, she stabs him in the heart.

“Honey~ I won't let you go, even after death!”

After he was dead, he was reincarnated into a fantasy world novel that he had read as Arthur, a side villain and stepping stone. Because he doesn't want to be the protagonist's stepping stone, he will change his fates!

“I will change my fate and reach the pinnacle of this life. The Protagonist? Look who's the real protagonist!!”

[Ding~! Congratulation to the host for activating the system!]

……………………………………………………………

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

Living for the sole aim of escaping!

‘Light of Rusbella’ was a depressing romance novel.

Wishing for a new life, Asili Rosé was reborn as the daughter of the 8th wife of the Estrian Emperor.

She thought she was born with a golden spoon, but it was actually just a gilded spoon?

Once she realized that nothing but ruin awaited, she found a diary foreshadowing the future…

It foretold Asili’s death by the hands of the Crown Prince, Castor!

…Let’s try to survive first.

__

“What can I do for my elder brother?”

“Well.”

__

Pale sky blue hair fluttered finely in the wind. He smiled weakly, before parting his dry lips.

“Call my name.”

“…”

My head quickly snapped up.

“Call me… Amoru.”

His fingertips skimmed along my inner wrist.

In the post-apocalyptic age, men were damned.