MTL - Starting Off With A Blacksmith Workshop - Chapter 278 If you are in trouble, find Liu Guo!

When Demon Lord, Syryn Nigh'hart, found that he had gone back in time and turned into his child self, he had assumed to do better with his second life. Commit smaller crimes, keep away from burning villages and inciting other demons, contribute to society, abide by most laws, you know? But then the hero, his old friend, had to fall in love with him and ruin his plans.

Goddess, I cannot take responsibility for your champion, Rowan Windwalker, getting bent. Please don't strike me down!

#Gold Tier winner of WPC (forgot the contest number)#y'all this shit gay so don't go walking in expecting it to not have men sucking faces#N̶o̶ ̶h̶a̶r̶e̶m̶(my dumb self thought harem means mc marries many lovers)#Reformed and immature demon lord (but he's nice now okay. He isn't psycho.) #Hero is an extremely patient man for putting up with the demon lord's nonsense # MULTIPLE POTENTIAL LOVE INTERESTS #Slow Romance#Slow like you have to wait for around 40 chapters (smut too) before it starts #Patience is needed #Lots of it#alternate day updates because I have to study#english is neither my first nor second language so bear with me#The cat is not the ML ಥ‿ಥ some of you are getting the wrong idea.

Officer, if I told you this just was a “Healing-type Game,” would you believe me?

Every novel has a slag character, the one who decides to abandon the protagonist at his lowest, most helpless point, either because he can’t stand the poor guy’s circumstances or for other reasons. But after the protagonist wins his way in life again, they’re the ones who beg with broken sobs to be taken back.

Still, water once spilled can’t be recovered again.

Yet the unlucky Shen Jiayan has been bound to a Water Recovery* System to do just that.

*water recovery – comes from an idiom that means “spilled water can’t be recovered” (English equivalent: there’s no use crying over spilt milk).

- Description from Novelupdates

In a world where Lycans and werewolves are sworn enemies, Eve Valmont is a werewolf cursed by a prophecy and framed. Betrayed by her own pack and imprisoned for years, her fate takes a darker twist when she is offered to the Lycan King, Hades Stavros—a ruler feared for his ruthless conquests and deadly prowess. Bound by an ancient prophecy and haunted by the ghosts of her past, Eve is now at the mercy of the one being she should hate and fear the most—The Hand of Death himself.Hades, a king carved from blood and his own soul's decay, determined to avenge his family's slaughter and rid his people of the werewolves. He believes Eve is the key to his victory. To him, she is nothing but weapon foretold by prophecy, a tool he will wield to destroy the opposing forces threatening his pack. Yet, he finds himself craving this powerful yet broken woman. Leaving him questioning if she is truly his weapon or the one destined to unravel his carefully laid plans.***He stalked toward me, a predator closing in on its prey, his eyes dark and unreadable. “So, you laugh?” His voice was low, dangerously soft, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how difficult it had become to breathe. “Hades, I—”“But you only laugh at other men's jokes,” he interrupted, his gaze piercing, devoid of any humor. “Not your husband's.” The accusation in his tone was sharp, slicing through the air between us.A nervous chuckle escaped me. “You can't be serious... He’s your beta, for Goddess’ sake.”In an instant, he closed the distance between us, so fast it left me breathless. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against his body, the heat of him making my skin tingle. I gasped, but before I could say a word, his lips crashed onto mine, claiming my mouth with a force that sent shockwaves through me. The kiss was punishing, hungry—I couldn't breathe, couldn't think.When he finally pulled back, I was trembling, my chest heaving as I struggled to regain my breath. His eyes, dark and stormy, searched mine with a possessive intensity. “You can’t laugh at my jokes...” he whispered, his voice a dangerous rasp as his fingers trailed lower, sending a shiver down my spine, “but you’ll come with my fingers.”I shivered, heat pooling low in my belly at his words, his touch. The world around us blurred, fading into nothing as his hand slipped lower, drawing a ragged gasp from my lips. The look in his eyes told me he knew exactly what he was doing to me, and there was no denying the primal connection between us in that moment.“I don’t need your laughter,” he murmured against my skin, his breath hot on my neck. “I’ll have every other part of you instead.”