MTL - I’ve Led the Villain Astray, How Do I Fix It? - Chapter 163 (catching insects)

A no name Character, that never appear in novel.An ExtraEd a young man found himself in the world of the novel he’d been reading.It feels like a dream come true.But—As the memory flooded in of his new identity.-He was doomed.-He was f*cked.As He was now Caspian Arcwright[An Extra Character]Who is even despised by his own family.His father called him a failure, his mother saw him as a disgrace, and his older brothers tortured him relentlessly.There were only two reasons they let him live: the promise of an unknown bloodline that would awaken at the age of eleven, and his arranged fiancée.Then why?why?[BLOODLINE AWAKENED]BLOODLINE---- OF---- SACRIFICE

“Great Mr. Chen Yu, having been successfully elected as the leader of the human race last night, do you have anything you’d like to say to the whole world?” Chen Yu got out of bed, bewildered and still undressed, “I don’t know, I just woke up...”

In 1919, Donnie's soul traversed into the United States.To start off, Donnie, just a soldier who had recently stepped down from the battlefields of World War I, was framed by his superior. Before the Prohibition era began, he took over a bar in Atlantic City. With the perspective of a transmigrator and ruthless tactics, he gradually became the largest bootlegger in America.In the roaring twenties, Donnie delved into bootlegging, ran beauty pageants, built his career, and stormed Wall Street.Decades later, when people studied modern American history, they found that the name 'Donnie Block' was one they simply could not ignore!!!Additional Tags: ACTION, TRANSMIGRATION, GENIUS, KINGDOMBUILDING, URBAN, SHOWBIZ, POORTORICH

[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.