Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse With My Military System - Chapter 69 A Glimpse to the Development of the Oriental Military Camp Part 2

This story is about a man named Putra Indra Santoso who reincarnated as Huo Yuhao. Witness his journey in Douluo Dalu's universe where he discovered and fulfilled his ultimate goals.My Grammar is not the best, but hope you guys like it.(An: I don't own anything besides my OC)

“This guy, how heavy is his taste, he’s still able to eat?” Waking up, she looked at her reflection in the mirror, explosive hair, tattoos, and a demon-like face. Look at her for more than a second and you’ll have spicy eyes (your eyes will bleed-aka she looks really ugly).

The snake, Yu Yaoyao, transmigrated into a third-rate actress who was only a pitiful cannon fodder in the novel.

This little actress met a dark accident, her diamond husband was robbed, her son died miserably, and she was at the lowest peak of her career. Ultimately, she became paralyzed in the end.

Yu Yaoyao is determined to change everything!

From there on, she became a mistress, a loving mother and practiced the art of acting through multitasking!

At the other end of the line…

The male lead looked patiently at Yu Yaoyao straddling his waist: Get off!

Yu Yaoyao: I won’t! Husband, that film emperor is extremely ugly! I’m so scared I can’t even sleep at night properly ~ let’s make a second child—calm down, don’t be frightened!

Yu Yaoyao: …Isn’t that me?

Director: As an actor, when I say ‘start’ your tears should immediately fall…oh, that’s enough, there’s no need to cry more.

Yu Yaoyao: It’s nothing.

I once believed I was the heroine of a modern fairytale, blessed with beauty, wealth, intelligence, and a powerful legacy. Men adored me, women envied me, and I was engaged to the most desirable man, Cole Fay. My life seemed perfect, a dream where I held the starring role. But on my eighteenth birthday, that illusion crumbled. The truth hit me hard: I wasn’t the protagonist, nor even the villain or a side character. I was just cannon fodder, a disposable part of someone else’s story. But when fate recognized the cruel joke of my life, I was granted a second chance. This time, I’ll write my own story, living for myself. And this time . . . I will never love you again.