Reincarnated as the Demon King's Son - Chapter 666 Retreating

– The planet [Earth] has entered the abnormal state [Apocalypse].

Ye Xuan, the youngest Martial God of the Heavenly Realm, was ambushed by the four major powers of the Heavenly Realm, resulting in the destruction of his golden body, leaving only a wisp of his martial spirit to escape to the mortal world, reincarnating into the body of a noble family's scion, Ye Xuan, in the Daxia Kingdom.With all sorts of martial arts and divine-level techniques in his possession, from that point on, Ye Xuan shook off his reputation as a waste and defied destiny. Rising step by step from the bottom, he sought revenge for his father, pursued dominance over the mythical lands, traveled the spirit martial world, and returned to the pinnacle of being a Martial God, aiming for the supreme position.Treasure, beauties? Nothing poses a problem! Geniuses, monsters? They all bow at my feet!The peak of martial arts, defying the heavens, stepping on the Heavenly Realm, becoming the supreme!

Betrayed. Ridiculed. Killed.That was my past life.I trusted the wrong people, and they buried me for it. But fate wasn’t done with me yet. When I opened my eyes again, it wasn’t in my old body—it was in a world overrun by the undead. And this time, I was one of them.A fucking zombie!But I’m not like the others. I think. I feel. I remember.What’s this voice in my head?[Welcome to the Silent Requiem System!]The system feeds me power, unlocking missions and skill buried within this body. I have one goal: rise in rank, take control, and make sure no one ever tramples me again.The humans I move with have no idea what I really am. To them, I’m just another survivor, clawing my way to the top. But in battle, I use my abilities in secret—manipulating the undead, eliminating threats, and turning every fight in my favor.But rumors are spreading. There’s talk of an undead hiding among them, unseen and unstoppable. If they find out the truth, they’ll hunt me down like a monster.And my past? It’s here too. The people who betrayed me in my last life are standing right beside me, unaware of who I am. But I remember them. They turned on me once—I won’t give them the chance to do it again.Then there’s him. The commander of the city, sharp-eyed and ruthless. He’s watching me too closely, asking too many questions. If he figures out the truth, I’ll have to make a choice: eliminate him, outplay him… or pull him into my trap before he can destroy me.Because in this world, power is the only thing that matters. And this time, I refuse to be at the bottom.***“How did you survive when everyone else died?”I guess death just didn’t want me.“Why do the zombies ignore you?”Maybe I just have a face they don’t like.“You were just a nobody yesterday—how are you suddenly so strong?”Hard work, luck… and a little bit of hex.“Why do I feel like I've seen you somewhere before?”Déjà vu’s a funny thing, isn’t it?“What are you?”Wouldn’t you like to know?

Once upon a time, there was a makeup artist who possessed outstanding skills and top-notch aesthetic judgement. When he did makeup for various stars, he could embellish sharpness onto the smooth vases that lacked edges, and he could make models who exceeded the boundaries of aesthetics to appear delicate and soft, more approachable to people.

Male stars loved to request him, for he had a thorough understanding of masculine charm in particular, and the makeup he did was never garishly slathered in oils or powders, instead exuding a natural, dashing air of elegance.

Female stars loved to request him, because not only was he excellent in his skills, he was also everyone’s closest confidant; when they chatted, he could easily hold any conversation, and his mouth would be tightly sealed, never allowing anyone’s privacy to slip out.

Although this person was quite young, after getting by in the makeup industry the past few years, he was virtually considered as a distinguished personality in his profession, and would be referred to as a ‘master’ wherever he went.

But he had a terrifying secret. He needed to carefully tread on thin ice and couldn’t expose even the slightest traces; otherwise, nobody would invite him to work ever again, and nobody would apply to the classes he led anymore.

—He was a straight man.

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