MTL - Please Sink In Happiness - Chapter 257

[Ding! Sorceress Beauty Merlin from Camelot has added you to a chat group full of beautiful maidens!][Ding! You've claimed the title of Supreme Demon Lord!][Ding! Fairy Queen Ophelia tagged you in a post!][Ding! Medusa sent you some of her spicy videos, shut your blinds before watching!][Ding! Your dog has been transformed into the Ancient Black Dragon Veligrpyh!]James Kang, once the youngest heir to the multi-trillion-dollar Hart Global Corporation, has everything anyone could dream of: money, luxury, and freedom. But his life is hollow—friends are fake, family distant, and his days are a blur of shallow extravagance.One late, lonely night, James gets a notification:[Congratulations! You have been added to the Ancient Multiverse Chatroom!]Thinking it's some cringy online role-playing game, he decides to entertain himself and plays along, proclaiming himself the “Supreme Demon Lord.”The group, filled with titles like:[Princess of the Azure Seas][Dragon Emperor of Ashvale][Goblin Slayer Supreme][High Priestess of the Sun][Fafnir, the Pet Wyvern]And they seemed hilariously invested in their roles.What starts as a joke takes a bizarre turn.The more James participates, the more he notices strange phenomena: glowing runes on his skin, magic artifacts materializing from nowhere, an elder dragon in his garage, and a sudden mastery of dark magic.Things escalate when a private group chat, run by a perverted female King Arthur, invites him to [The Table of Beauties], a circle of god-tier roleplayers… or so he thinks.Soon, James learns the truth.The chat is an interdimensional nexus connecting real worlds where magic, legends, and gods exist. His casual banter and fake roleplay have turned him into a living, breathing Demon Lord, complete with a castle in Hell, loyal monster armies, and reality-warping powers.To make matters even crazier, his “friends” start visiting Earth, and they’re nothing like he imagined!

[No heroine, no emotional line, no ambiguity, a lot of private settings, a comprehensive world view, I am an organization. 】

[There is a story about an undercover police officer with real wine, there is a possibility of death for the red party, and both Bourbon and Scotland are real wine]

“Name.”

“Osamu Dazai.”

“gender.”

“A man without a doubt.”

“age.”

“14.”

“The code name of the Black Organization.”

“Cahor.”

“Why did you join the Black Organization?”

“Well, because I’m the adopted son of that gentleman.”

[This article is also known as Osamu Dazai of COS. I recognized a thief as a father in the Conan crew. I am not disqualified in this world. I am full of fighting skills. I appeared in Japan the next second at the comic exhibition and became a three-year-old slaughter]

[There will be other vests. ][The elegant party and the gangsters stay away from me][Writing to play, don’t gangster]

- Description from novelbuddy

Science and Technology Library: The supreme state of science is theology; an accidental rescue, let Chen Mo get a technology library that collects endless technology, the story begins…

- Description from xbiquge translation

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?