MTL - Goodnight Kiss from My Rumored Husband - Chapter 1393 Really contradictory 3

“H-Haru.... please... go...”In the midst of the sudden and ongoing Apocalypse, which had turned their lives into a complete hell, Haru embraced his loved one amidst the sadness and despair, watching helplessly as her bitten neck turned black.The person who meant the world to him was turning into a zombie, and he felt helpless to save her.“Why... Why... Why...” Tears fell as he held her tight, not wanting to let go. He was afraid, not of death or turning into something else, but afraid of losing her once more.Yet, amongst tears and desperation, a bit of unexpected hope appeared out for Haru.[Ting! Ting! Ting!][System has now finally initialized!!][Assigning a designated Class suited for the User!!][3][2][1][Congratulations! You acquired the EX Class – Zombie’s Husbando!!][First Quest – Choose a Zombie to be your Waifu!]

When the goddamn story leaves you no choice but to walk the path of the villain,The heroes aren't enough to save the world, as the calamity ultimately kills everyone and everything.Then, only by becoming the demon king can you survive, and only the demon king can save the world, but how?Of course, by conquering every other race, obviously.Can Axel become the demon king and survive, maybe save the world in the process?

I was forced to live in captivity for the rest of my life because I happened to be aware of the fact that I was a saint. I was truly a ‘real’ saint, but that didn’t matter, because there was already a designated saint in the temple.

When I died from all the abuse I endured, I was sent back to a time before all those previous events in my life had happened. After 15 regressions, I was exhausted. I prayed, “I don’t want anything to do with this, so please just let me die,”

And at that moment when I could finally be able to die, someone said, “How about being my daughter?”

…. That monstrous duke had adopted me.

[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.