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... t was a male youth.

It was one of the Knights of the Round Table, whose name was Bedivere.

Legend has it that he was a knight who survived King Arthur's last battle at Camlann. King Arthur commissioned Bedivere to throw his holy sword, Excalibur, into the lake. He didn't really throw the sword until the third time. Lose.

but-

This is a legend, the real him deviates a little from the legend, the deviation is...

For the third time, he did not throw away the sword ...

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If Ke Xun could do it again, he would have never left his house to go out and flirt with guys, even if it would mean getting beaten to death.

Weren’t they supposed to have just been taking shelter from the rain in a museum and looking at some erot*c paintings while they were at it? Why…did they enter the world inside a painting?!

Mu Yiran: Every single one of us is acting out a role in the painting.

Ke Xun’s eyes lit up: How do we get into an erot*c painting?

Mu Yiran gave him a long, drawn-out look: Shut your eyes and lie down.

……………………………………………………………

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[The criteria for unlocking the system have been fulfilled.][System synchronization with host commencing.][Synchronization complete. Congratulations. You have been given a chance to become the most desirable human in this world, just as you wished.]“This isn’t what I wished for.”[What seems to be the problem?] the voice asked, a hint of curiosity in her tone.“I asked to be the most desirable human, not a woman!” he exclaimed, frustrated as he cupped his newfound breasts.Sylvester Lancaster, a dedicated and kind-hearted unactractive policeman, often dismissed and treated like a doormat, snaps after discovering his newlywed wife in bed with his best friend. Consumed by rage, he goes on a violent rampage, only to realize the horrific extent of his actions when the blood cools—he has committed murder. Panicked, he attempts to flee but is struck by a car and meets his untimely death.However, death is far from the end. Sylvester awakens in a morgue, only to find himself in a bizarre alternate universe—trapped in the body of a stunning young woman named Cara Bolton.In this new world where Sylvester has transmigrated to, vampires, werewolves, witches, and other supernatural beings coexist in a fragile balance with humans, their uneasy peace marked by underlying tensions and hidden conflicts. Among the supernaturals, vampires reign supreme as the most dominant and influential. The system reveals to Sylvester that he now wields two new skills: the power to read minds and the ability to detect lies, skills inherited from Cara, the body’s former inhabitant who was a fairy.The system assigns him quests to complete, allowing him to level up and gain all remaining skills a fairy possesses. Many of these missions involves sex, manipulating and exploiting people, as well as infiltrating the vampiric council.

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Ye Qianning has become a six-year-old Xiaotuanzi. Not only does she have dual-line abilities, but she also has four fathers.

“father!”

Tuanzi cried and chirped, and the four big bosses in the prime of life of the imperial capital were all in a mess in the wind.

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Father Fox: “If I have a daughter, she must be the most beautiful woman in the world. How can I be as fat as a ball!”

Huang Shang’s father: “Three generations of my Gu family can’t have a daughter, how could she be the seed of my Gu family.”

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The general’s father was angry: “Why didn’t you recognize it back then, now whoever dares to snatch my daughter from me, I will fight with him.”

The serious young lady next to her whispered with her little hands behind her back: “She will marry me as a daughter-in-law when she grows up.”

Hearing that the eyes of the four big bosses were on fire, it was extremely dangerous.

Tuanzi looked at the drama that was performed every day, and helplessly supported her forehead: “She just wants to raise a big space so that she can live a long life… Don’t lose the vest.”

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I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.