My Girlfriend is a Zombie - Chapter 152 – Battling With The Snake

This is a world where a king is the most powerful.

“My daughter will kill me.”A poor man, exhausted and overwhelmed by debt, dies and finds himself in his favorite novel as Arzoth Draven—the character he despised the most. Arzoth Draven is the infamous prince who constantly tries to undermine his brother, Evren Draven, the story's main protagonist. He abandoned his illegitimate daughter in a basement, only to be killed by her years later. Now, having transmigrated into the role of Arzoth Draven, can he avoid this grim fate? And on top of that, he also possesses a system.

Power comes with a cost... and it was something she was willing to trade her soul for.A few nights before her wedding, Lauren sought a way to break her fourth engagement. Known for her bad reputation as the rebel princess, she was the only lady who had the guts to step foot on the Everston mansion, the house of a notorious warlord, in the middle of the night.She offered him a wicked alliance that the entire kingdom did not see coming: a marriage.A vixen pretending to be a damsel in distress and a man whose crimson eyes screaming for bloodshed. Could something blossom in this treacherous dance of lies and deception?--“Are you upset?”She eyed him sharply. “Should I be honored that I got tricked by you, milord?”He drank the remaining wine in his glass with one gulp and put it on the wooden table.He stepped in front of her. His hand was on the rail on her side while his other hand grabbed her glass and finished her wine before putting it down.The way his Adam's apple moved with his every violent gulp made her feel a tickling heat around her nape.When he brought his attention back to her, he licked his lips to wipe off the trace of wine.“How shall I make it up to you then?” he asked with his deep voice, like a seductive devil asking his victim how she would like to be killed. Dangerous yet… enthralling.

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.