MTL - The Apocalypse’s Great Merchant - Chapter 457 Lancome

Qin Yi was reborn half a month’s time before the apocalypse. In this life, having already seen the true colors of her scumbag sister and father, she swore to let them have a taste of their own medicine—an eye for an eye. She disguised herself as a man and kept improving, getting stronger day by day. Common people hailed her as «Prince», making countless people bow in homage.

I am a doctor, and after I became a zombie, I found that my face was paralyzed.

Actually, I didn’t want to block the zombies for my patient, but I accidentally stumbled and fell on him.

As for why I am conscious, it may be because I am handsome…

After all, compared to those A zombie that stinks and dries and still grows green hair, except that my skin is paler, my body temperature is a little lower, my pupils are a little discolored, and there are a few cyan veins on my neck, as long as I don’t say…

Actually I can still see that I am not a normal person.

I was able to determine that my stomach was not interested in humans.

However, my patient seems to smell delicious…

Rong Yun (smile): Be good, don’t bite anyone

Xiao Shenwei (face paralysis and rub hands): Okay, ah hoo~

- Description from Novelupdates

300 years after becoming a Demon King, the war angel Ansel faced a serious problem during a certain expedition.

——His halo grew out once again.

Ansel picked an auspicious place that was definitely and absolutely unmanned, and while cursing, he simply and skillfully broke off the newly emerged angelic aperture.

This thing was growing out faster and faster!

When will his undercover mission end already?!

The demon realm was divided and ruled by three kings. Demon King Saros was forced to go on an expedition with his sworn enemy, Ansel.

One day, he noticed Ansel sneaking away from everyone.

Saros decisively followed him, and was shocked to find that his sworn enemy, another demon king of the demon realm, took off a horn headband and fake bat wings. As Ansel cursed up and down, Saros watched as he skillfully removed a cute halo from his head.

This irritable, easily angered guy who loves fighting; the type that was cute when he shuts up but could make even demons angered to the point of ascending to heaven the moment he opens his mouth…

..was actually an angel???

- Description from Novelupdates

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.