MMORPG: Rise of the Primordial Godsmith - Chapter 1497: Myriad Prodigies: Final Round (8)

«Farming wives in the apocalypse.» Getting a wife is possible. Getting Wives is hard. And in the apocalypse, it’s impossible. But what if you have superpowers that allow you to do anything? I mean everything!

She was the illegitimate daughter of a wealthy family—abandoned by her father, oppressed by his legal wife, and humiliated by the so-called sister. She watched her mother perish in a raging fire and was thrown into the flames herself.Her name was Janice. And she died in that fire.Ten years later, under a new identity and the name “Janet,” she survives in silence. Forced by her stepmother to marry a wealthy heir rumored to be “paralyzed and disabled,” she becomes entangled in a vicious struggle of family betrayal and ruthless power games.With cold eyes, she watches the hypocrites who once trampled her into the mud—one by one, they will become prey on her road to revenge.Her wheelchair-bound “husband” Philip, the feuding brothers Charles and August… But what she didn't expect was that the boy who once quietly handed her a handkerchief all those years ago would become the most unpredictable piece in her game of fate.She has returned—not for hatred, but to personally end the past that was once crushed beneath their feet.

This is a story of a modern man returning to ancient times, returning to a real world without any extraordinaryness, and slowly rising by relying on the ability to attribute all data.

- Description from novelbuddy

I was nothing. A lowly omega, destined to live in the shadows of stronger wolves. But on the night of my eighteenth birthday, the moon had other plans for me. My mate was an Alpha’s son. The problem? He wasn’t the only one. The Blackwood triplets—Kael, Ronan, and Darian—each bore the same mark that bound them to me.To be Luna, I would have to survive the chaos of three powerful mates, a jealous rival who wanted my place, and a secret buried deep in my bloodline.Because being chosen by the moon was never a gift. It was a curse.