MTL - My Beast Master is Really Not An Evil God - Chapter 137 Surprised! The little spider drives Gundam (ask for a monthly ticket)

The 13th disciple of the Great Mount Hua Sect. One of the Greatest Third-Generation Swordsmen. The Plum Blossom Sword Master, Chungmyung.

After slicing the head of the peerless Heavenly Demon, who threw the world into chaos, he slept an eternal sleep on the peak of the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains. Jumping over a hundred years, he comes back in the body of a child.

But… what? Mount Hua declined? What the hell are you talking about!?

It’s only natural to want to live if you’re going broke.

“Decline? Even though I’m here? Who would dare!”

Plum blossoms eventually fall.

But when the cold winter passes and spring comes, plum blossoms shall bloom again.

“But I’m gonna die first before Mount Hua gets revived! If you’re gonna go bust, might as well do it right, you bastards!”

The beginning of the Plum Blossom Sword Master, Chungmyung’s solitary struggle to save the thoroughly declining Mount Hua Sect.

Night City, it’s a place of endless wonders and horrors. Opportunities and dangers, but before Motoko Kusanagi can access any of them. She first has to build up enough strength to walk again. Learn the basics of living in a world that was just a game to her before. Good thing she found a Shard hidden in her stuff that opens the door of opportunity. But like all opportunities in Night City, it usually ends up in a gunfight. Self-Insert with a modified Cyberpunk 2077 Gamer System. Not a direct Ghost in the Shell Crossover. MC just happens to share the name.

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.

“Married rich for three years with no child born. Just when she was finally cured of infertility and ready to give him a child, he brought home his pregnant mistress in high profile.