My Wife is a Psychic - Chapter 332 - Zhao Ruifeng is Dead?

At nineteen, Dexter was already one of the world’s most celebrated authors. His books topped charts. Critics praised his genius. Fans devoured every word. But behind the acclaim was a lonely boy—raised without parents, love, or real friends—just stories.He published his first novel at fourteen. By seventeen, he was a literary star. But the higher he rose, the hollower it felt.Then came the writer’s block. The headaches. The blackout. And the transmigration.Dexter awoke in the body of Daylan, a disgraced young man in a crumbling, medieval world laced with steampunk tech, divine law, and political unrest. Daylan had already failed two of the three sacred Trials—rites that determine one’s magical potential. He was drowning in debt, entangled in plots to overthrow a corrupt Divine Church, and branded a lost cause.With no way back, Dexter took the final Trial—the most brutal of them all—and began a path that would earn him the whispered title: Soldier, Poet, King.But as his powers grew, one question haunted him: Did he truly die? And if so, who—or what—chose to bring him back?

Yan Sagawa is the top academic master in the world of Conan, known as a national treasure talent.

No one knows that he is actually a time traveler, carrying the most powerful Xueba system.

But he also has troubles recently, and he has awakened a second system — the Great Onmyoji system.

Whether to believe in science and become the father of all mankind or believe in theology to become the god who controls reincarnation, this is a question

. . .

After thinking for a long time, he decided that he wanted them all!

Conan: This is impossible murder! Is there really a ghost?

Sagawa Yan looked at the shikigami flying in the sky and smiled without saying a word.

Kidd: What kind of magic is this, how could you hide it from my eyes.

Sagawa said: This is science, you scumbag

- Description from novelbuddy

When the night came, there was a twittering sound in his ears, and the monster in the shadows began to move restlessly. Jason’s hungry stomach began to roar, and he couldn’t help swallow his saliva. Hunger was the best spur.