Transmigrated as the Cuck.... WTF!!! - Chapter 60. Woke up?

Suddenly pulled into a world filled with Specters, Fang Xiu woke up with a unique ability: Reset. Every time he died, time would rewind to the moment before he was killed.In this strange and dangerous world, Fang Xiu could have chosen to hide. Instead he announced to the world, “Yes, I’m a prophet. I can see the future!” As his predictions kept coming true, his title of the Prophet spread around the world.His words became the truth. They became the future.“I have seen the future,” he announced, attracting people from all around the world.His followers took it to the extreme, declaring, “Should the Prophet decree your demise one day, don’t waver, don’t question, just obey. For hesitance only leads to a far graver fate.”During a B-level Specter event, known as [the Spawning]A teammate warned, “The creature is hiding among these villagers. We need to be careful.”Fang Xiu pointed to the last row and commanded, “The one in white. Yes, you. Come out!”In an A-level Specter event, called [Lantern Heads]One teammate warned, “This area is crawling with thousands of Lantern Heads. If they shine their light on you, your head will fall off. The scariest part is the Lantern Heads float unpredictably. It’s impossible for anyone to get across safely. Wait, where’s Fang Xiu?”Another stuttered, “He, he…he’s on the other side!”The first teammate exclaimed in disbelief, “What?! How did he get across?”The other replied: “He…he just walked over.”

Luciel strived to survive in a world that was suddenly plunged into chaos by monsters. Unfortunately, the base he was staying at didn’t survive the monster tide. So, after surviving in such a world for 7 years, he died.Luciel thought he had died, but when he opened his eyes, he was met with peaceful modern scenery.After looking around, Luciel laughed with joy and said, “Ha ha ha. I can finally enjoy such peaceful scenery again! No more eating expired food! No more sleeping in the open space! And there is no need to fight daily! To whomever brought me here, thank you very much. I will enjoy this life to the fullest!”He also woke up in the body of a male model who had just signed to be the contract lover of their boss.“Hmm, $5 million and a house in the capital as a separation fee, and $100,000 as an allowance every month. The boss also has a handsome face. Ok, no problem!”Luciel did enjoy his peaceful life for a few weeks, but afterwards he found out that the world he was in was the apocalyptic novel he read in his past life.He didn’t want to live in the same way as his past life, so knowing that he was the lover of the protagonist who died in the first chapter because he ran away, he decided to stay and rely on the protagonist.Luciel just wanted to rely on the protagonist to have a better life in the upcoming zombie apocalypse. However, he was forced to deal with the people flocking around to rely on the protagonist, and he was even forced to fight again just to save him.“Hey! I just want to rely on you! Why do I need to deal with a lot of things?”“It’s not my fault that some things happened.”“What did you say?”“Don’t stare at me with such a cold look. Don’t worry; you can continue to relax and just rely on me. You don’t need to care about anything else, as long as you care about me!”“Huh? Are you still dreaming?”

The jeers followed her like a persistent shadow. “Murderer!” the crowd screamed, their faces contorted in a grotesque parody of the adoration she once commanded.Just months ago, they had screamed her name, their voices a deafening roar as she shimmied across the stage, a beacon of light and pop perfection. Now, their cheers had morphed into venomous hisses, their eyes burning with a hatred that chilled her to the bone.Noelle clutched her lawyer's arm, his face a mask of grim determination. The cameras flashed, capturing her every move, every tremor of fear. The headlines screamed: “Pop Princess Plummets: Noelle Accused of Murder.” The irony wasn't lost on her. Her life, once a carefully constructed fairytale of fame and fortune, had become a grotesque tragedy.The trial was a circus. The whispers, the sneers, the relentless scrutiny – it was a constant assault on her senses. Her once loyal fans, the ones who'd plastered her face on their bedroom walls, now reveled in her downfall. They devoured every salacious detail, every whispered accusation, every tear she dared to shed.The verdict was a foregone conclusion. Guilty.Noelle watched the judge pronounce the sentence, her mind a whirlwind of disbelief and despair. Death by lethal injection.‘At least they did not give me the electric chair’ she thought to herself in a poor attempt at humor.Months later, a solitary figure knelt at her grave, the wind whipping at his hair. Rain lashed down, mirroring the tears that streamed down his face.“I'm sorry, Areum,” he sobbed, his voice hoarse with grief. “I'm so sorry I was too late.” He clutched a single, wilted rose, its petals stained crimson, a poignant reminder of the life that had been brutally extinguished.Noelle is a bright star who has the world at her feet, she feels no guilt about being the other woman coming between a husband and his wife. After all, Evan had been in love with her since they were teenagers. The only reason he married Ma-Ri was because his family demanded it, if he had a choice he would surely have picked her…When she gets wrongfully accused of murdering Ma-Ri, she loses everything and is sentenced to death, everyone including Evan turn against her and she is left to die a miserable death.She is reborn and this time she faces the humiliation of being the woman who is being cheated on. She is determined to end the cycle and not let the future she had seen come to pass, she decides to step out of the picture and focus on her career.In doing so, everything changes, Evan clings to her and refuses to let her go, a mysterious stranger who has been studying her also steps in and decides to fight for a chance to be with her.

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!”