Death Scripture - Chapter 963 - Poison

The best actor was shooting a doomsday movie when he suddenly transmigrated to a real doomsday world and became Aon Flearov, a young man with a huge debt and a blood-sucking family.What does one do in the apocalypse?Of course, shoot variety shows, live streams, do ads, act in movies, hold concerts and fan meetings—The whole showbiz world was placed in real apocalypses, and Aon, a newly-debuted doomsday star, was thrown to a random variety show to fight zombies!It was at this desperate moment that Aon awakened a superpower—A system.DING! [Heyo, dad, your son is online~]Aon: [Son, are you a farming system? A counterattack system? A pay-to-win system?? Anything will do!]The system instantly burst into tears: [B-but dad, I'm a superstar system!]And so, in a doomsday dating variety show:The system picked and chose a few “cabbages” seriously:[Dad, do you want to find me a zombie step mom or an alien step dad? Old or young? One, two, three, or four?]In a doomsday gourmet show:The system handed a frying pan, spatula, guitar, piano:[Go, dad! I want a stir-fry zombie brain, alien omakase, mutated beast AYCE, spirit plant pancakes— ]In a doomsday idol survival show:The system looked at the zombies and aliens crying on their knees, begging for mercy:[Dad! They're all moved by your singing! They want an encore!][Dad! After you do the zombie dance, the zombies collectively change their race's name!]Doing part-time jobs in the eternal sun apocalypse, camping in a natural disaster doomsday, living with aliens, styling zombies in Doomsday Supermodel, turning into plants and fighting zombies, fighting against fellow doomsday celebrities in Doomsday Survival championships—Here, there are various shows you can and can't imagine. Name one, and it will come true.#An actor who cannot become a superstar isn't a good doomsday survivor#The three no:No R18No haremNo BL/Yuri— no bullying the author!PS: This novel is written by the author's cat

“Gege, what does cultivating feelings mean?? Is kissing when you eat someone’s mouth?? How are children born??” The 3-year-old Xiao Tu likes to chase after her ChangZhi gege and ask questions…

Ten years old Cheng Zhiyan had always seemed been studious and hardworking. However, when he heard these three questions, he was stunned and fled in an instant… until one day, a certain thirteen-year-old Xiao Tu pressed Cheng Zhiyan to the wall and kissed him. Then she smacked her lips to savor the taste and said: “It turns out that when you kiss orange juice, it really taste like orange juice ah…” the always calm and indifferent Cheng ZhiYan, once again fled in defeat.

**TN: ChengZhi Yan’s name sounds like orange juice

- Description from Novelupdates

The female protagonist transmigrated into a wretched, lazy, and gluttonous villainess in a farming family!Her notorious reputation, fostered by her overly pampering mother, alienated the entire family. See how Jinhua cleanses her name, becoming diligent, brave, and the applauded golden girl everyone praises.With a wretched mother, a sick father, a stepsister, four brothers, and a bunch of nephews, all dead broke and needing support, poor and infighting, what to do?No worries, with the System in hand, I have the world!Harmonize the family, build wealth and prosper.The belle of the villages for miles around, Jinhua the beauty!……Mountain man, what was it you said before? You'd rather die than marry her, and even one more glance would shorten your life?A certain mountain man: No, no, no, wife, you must have heard wrong! I said I'd rather die than not take another glance, and I'd shorten my lifespan just to marry you.Hmph, that's more like it!!

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.