MTL - I Have a Luck Altar - Chapter 794 The Day of Perdition of the Palace of Seven Kills!

It’s my 100th life!! This life’s genre is fantasy.By the way, am I a prince?My mother was a maid, and my father is a king. However, I’m just a prince who is born with blood from a lowly class.It’s actually good! Yeah! It’s pretty good to me!There are no followers and no right of succession. I mean, people don’t really care about my existence.‘This is a place where you can live easily, right?’

As soon as Qin Feng opened his eyes, he was horrified to find himself lying in a drafty thatched hut. The problem was that he was still in his villa! What was even more horrifying was that there was another man lying under the blanket next to his legs!

“You, you, who are you?”

The man quietly sat up, exposing his upper body. He looked at him fixedly for a moment, then took a broken bowl from the table by the bed. He said in a muffled voice, “Wife, drink this water.”

Qin Feng rolled his eyes and fainted. Without permission, it is forbidden to reproduce or adapt it. Violators must be investigated.

A world where taming monsters is the mainstream to survive. Cloud, an orphan from the slums, suddenly recovered his memories of a previous life. A man living on modern Earth, and an avid fan of sexy monster girls.

Running away from the constraints of his current life and starting anew, he decided to throw away his name and live as just “Will”.

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I once believed I was the heroine of a modern fairytale, blessed with beauty, wealth, intelligence, and a powerful legacy. Men adored me, women envied me, and I was engaged to the most desirable man, Cole Fay. My life seemed perfect, a dream where I held the starring role. But on my eighteenth birthday, that illusion crumbled. The truth hit me hard: I wasn’t the protagonist, nor even the villain or a side character. I was just cannon fodder, a disposable part of someone else’s story. But when fate recognized the cruel joke of my life, I was granted a second chance. This time, I’ll write my own story, living for myself. And this time . . . I will never love you again.