Loving the Forbidden Prince - Chapter 151 - Countdown To Peace - Part 7

“Mr. Chen, your order of one hundred buckets of fried chicken has arrived.”

“Mr. Chen, your order of one hundred roast ducks has arrived.”

“Mr. Chen, your order of ten thousand tons of pork has arrived.”

Known as the King of the Void, Chen Luo, relied on his unparalleled survival abilities to outlast all survivors, leaving no human left in the world except monsters.

Chen Luo, who found no meaning in living, buried himself in a pit. It wasn’t that he couldn’t survive, but that he didn’t want to.

After waking up, Chen Luo was surprised to find himself reborn one month before the apocalypse, with his unique space ability from his past life following him.

It goes without saying, he decided to stockpile ten billion supplies first. Why stockpile so much? Chen Luo said he wanted to try something different in this lifetime.

Ruins stretched across the landscape in the apocalypse after the nuclear war.

The inexplicable existence expands the earth and stars a hundred times, and the whole world is digitized by the game. The ancient existence began to return, and there were alien races in the chaos.

This is the struggle for hegemony between the fierce soldiers of the Great Qin Dynasty and the Yulin Army of the prosperous Tang Dynasty, and also the collision between the military soldiers of Wei Dynasty and the trapped camp.

When the Spartan Warriors met the Yellow Turban Warriors, when the Holy See’s Crusades met the Mongolian Iron Cavalry… Elephant Soldiers, Iron Buddhas, Viking Pirates… Humans, Beasts, Alien Invasions… …Who is the strongest civilization in the heavens?

- Description from novelbuddy

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.