MTL - The King’s Game - Chapter 103 Mermaid (21)

When he woke up, Yang Yuan found himself reborn.

When he was one year old, “Ah, not only rebirth, but also transmigration.”

At the age of three, “Goldfinger is finally in place!”

Portable space is handy.

Fourteen years old, “What the hell is my golden finger?”

Yang Yuan screamed in the sky…

Thirty-year-old, Yang Yuan, who was hugging from left to right, stood on Emperor Tread Peak, pointing to the vast land, “This is the country that I have conquered!”

Omg, golden fingers are so fragrant!

- Description from novelbuddy

Ye Qinghan, young master of the powerful Ye Family, gets ostracized when his peerless father meets an unfortunate end. Lacking strength and in a bid to live a Purposeful life, he suffers through the unending ridicule, bullying and torture dealt to him at each turn. However fate is a cruel mistress and offers only pain and misery with no end in sight. Broken, weak and distraught, Ye Qinghan embarks on a journey to usurp the hands of fate and attain strength to protect his own.

Chen Xiaoyun, an orphan from Guangzhou, China, once met a girl who looked remarkably like him. Before he could learn more about her, a deadly virus was unleashed around the globe.Humans turned into creatures straight out of video games and movies, and zombies and mutants roamed the streets with no one to stop them.From tanks to jockeys to even invisible zombies and mutated dogs. The mutations are just endless.“Why is there a zombie apocalypse just as I find my family? And why can I suddenly create things from thin air?”Will Xiaoyun survive the chaos with the new people he meets along the way? Will he use his newfound abilities to bring peace to a devastated world?Or perhaps he will just take another nap in the bed like a lazy pig——“Shut up. How am I supposed to do anything when you keep throwing women at me?”

Hello, everyone. My name is Shen JianGuo. I’m a night school teacher. I mainly teach the subjects of (Marxist) philosophy and ethics. I occasionally review new policies and measures for the students. I never see my colleagues and students during the day. The training institute classrooms are all abandoned schools, hospitals, or houses. The bus number is 444 and it always appears in front of my door at 12 midnight and disappears before 5am.

What? You say I met a ghost? Impossible. As a staunch scientific materialist, I don’t believe ghosts exist in this world.

But recently I’ve had an issue to raise. Can the training institute bring the class time up a little bit? Wouldn’t it be good to start around 8pm? Though I fear nothing on earth or in the heavens, I’m afraid of going bald.

- Description from Novelupdates