Mystique Soul: A Cultivator's Flame - Chapter 4 -

“Leave, you're free. Don't ever come back here again.” She said, hoping he wouldn't return and she'll get to liveHael was shocked, “Are you abandoning me, My Lady?”Corvina Cory lived her first life like a typical villainess and the consequences of her actions were pretty obvious. She died at the hands of the person she was in love with. Yet she gets a second chance at her first life even though she didn't want it. She didn't want to face the man she was madly in love with again and she definitely didn't want to get killed again by him as well.

Notice to Readers This is a NETORI novel—where the protagonist does the stealing, not the crying. If you’re here for NTR (netorare) tears, you’re in the wrong place. Thanks for reading! *Trigger Warning* The following piece of art may be offensive to some people because it contains rape fantasy, which is not real. Real rape is wrong. This is for people who enjoy rape as a fantasy or role-play and is not intended to be real or to be reproduced in any way. IF YOU ARE NOT 21 YEARS OF AGE OR OLDER, PLEASE EXIT THIS NOVEL NOW! THIS STORY IS FOR ADULTS ONLY AND CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, INCLUDING NON-CONSENUAL SEX, ABUSE, AND BREAST PLAY. IT IS SIMPLY FANTASY AND IN NO WAY CONDOLES THE ABUSE OF WOMEN. IT IS HERE FOR PLEASURE ONLY.

“I have to squander; otherwise, won’t it be a waste of my parent’s talent at earning money?” Hong Dali answers a reporter’s question matter-of-factly.

Just after the interview ends, Hong Dali opens the Great Prodigal System’s interface and looks at the various good stuff displayed in it. Stroking his chin, he mumbles to himself, “I just need to squander 200 billion yuan more to exchange for the blueprint of the core technology, Engine Destruction, found in the strongest humanoid mecha weapon, Neo Granzon. Looks like I’ll have to work harder!”

“I want to splurge! I want to squander!”

- Description from Novelupdates

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”