MTL - The Fallen Merman - Chapter 3

BLURB> He was reborn by mistake. Raised with purpose. Loved by a god. Worshipped by monsters. And the galaxy doesn’t stand a fucking chance.Irvine’s soul took one wrong turn through the wheel of karma and woke up in a body grown by an intergalactic hivemind goddess with boundary issues and galaxy-sized ambition. Now he’s the golden child of a psychic swarm that feeds on control and burns whole worlds for affection.With Crystal at the helm, warriors like Kimchi, relic-weapons like Kiya, and a council of psionic horrors eager to call him king, Irvine must choose what kind of god he wants to be.Because when a hivemind learns to love......it doesn’t know when to stop.The universe will kneel—or get devoured trying.SYNOPSISIrvine didn’t ask to be reincarnated, but the cosmos had other plans. And it didn’t hand him a cheat code or a clean slate—just one random boon, selected by an uncaring divine roulette wheel.Good karma? Bad karma? Balanced as all fuck.Now he's reborn in the body of a psionically tuned alien hybrid, raised from psychic infancy by Crystal, the hivemind queen of a race so advanced they’ve abandoned individuality for shared omniscience. All except her baby boy.Irvine is the singularity inside the swarm, the first soul allowed to think, dream, and desire independently. Trained by warriors like Kimchi, advised by bio-symbiotes like Kiya, loved ferociously by hive sisters like Diane, and shadowed by powers ancient and unnamed, Irvine is both weapon and wielder, saint and sacrifice.But empires don’t run on hugs and handjobs. As Crystal expands her dominion—across star systems and sentient nebulae—Irvine must lead the charge through blood, fire, and psionic flame.His soul is still human. His body? Engineered for extinction. His heart? Not entirely his anymore.

“Do you like me?” “Yes...” “When did it start?” “A long time ago...” “Will you always like me?” “The fireworks...will always be with you...”Looking at her upturned face, the girl's timid hand was gently lifted up. The warmth in her palm has always been so familiar. “Want to go watch the fireworks together?” “Yes.”The summer fireworks blooming in the deep night are just like your touching and tender smile twelve years ago.----------------------------------PS: Youth daily life story, childhood friend single female protagonist.

Check out the new book “CEO Hubby: Too Fierce!” and show some support~ When the cold, domineering, and scheming male god turns into a wife-slave, blinding countless people with his titanium alloy eyes.One day, Su Wanxia propped her thigh over her other leg: I'm so tired from shopping today.Mu Yingchen hurried over to her side: Baby, come, let your husband massage your feet.Su Wanxia: I'm thirsty.Within 5 seconds: Baby, here's your water.Su Wanxia: I'm sleepy, want to rest.Mu Yingchen's eyes immediately lit up: Baby, I'll carry you to rest.A moment later, Su Wanxia was on the verge of tears...Another day, Mu Yingchen was in a meeting when the phone rang, causing the senior executives to panic, wondering who had the audacity to not silence their phone.They watched as their CEO leisurely pulled out his phone, glanced at it, and his stern face immediately softened, smiling broadly.That smile made their hearts tremble.The way he said “Baby” made them shudder from head to toe.Then they saw their CEO disappear in a flash, leaving the executives completely disheveled in his wake...

I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.