I Might Be A Fake Cultivator - Chapter 2385 - True Form of Dao of the Heavenly Light Goddess

This is a story of a little man who walks forward silently, in awe, and strives to chase his dream.

- Description from novelbuddy

Kenji had become the Emperor’s right hand man which he always wanted to be. He thought that this position would help him to become one of the most popular and powerful figure in history, He did not know that the newly crowned Emperor considered him as a threat. Secrets were being prepared to deal with this ‘dangerous subject’ who had become too influential to be ignored.“Oh, Dearest brother, I have to congratulate you on your well-deserved hire! How great must it feel to receive a court audience and the special joy of having a sword under your head before the imperial family!” The emperor said warmly.'Oh dearest sister... Your congrats are out of place... you just made the situation worse...'

[Ding!] [The Milf Hunting System is online] [Seducing and conquering older women would be made possible with this system] [Isn’t that exciting host?] This was the notification Jay received after dying and transmigrating into the body of a 17-year-old boy named Ryan. He considered life to be meaningless and boring while he was still on earth. Then he died in an unexpected way after getting hit by a truck. Thinking that was his end, he was completely wrong. After meeting with a certain god, he got transmigrated into a world where powers, magical beasts, and so on exist. But things would be different in this world, life wouldn’t be that boring anymore because he has a task now...seducing and conquering milfs. Armed with the milf hunting system, he’d be able to conquer a lot of milfs, benefit from conquering them, and become stronger in the process. Follow him through his journey...

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.