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... e in slow, hissing spirals. Seran stood in its light, chest heaving, his blade trembling slightly—not from weakness.

But from impact.

From the weight of what had just happened.

He wiped the blood from his chin with the back of his hand, golden aura still flickering violently around him.

But his eyes—once wild with anger—were now focused.

Watching Lucavion.

Watching the man who had been thrown back, whose shoulder had been pierced, whose ribs were b ...

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After reincarnating, she pressed against Mr. Qin. “Sir, from the darkness on your forehead, I predict you’ll soon face a major disaster. If you want to overcome it, you’ll have to marry me. I can guarantee that you’ll have many children and grandchildren. You will also become as rich as a nation.

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“Honey, when will we have our third child?” He asked one day.

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“Ehh… It’s all for the purpose of entertainment. It doesn’t serve society at all.” The hater was feeling panicked.

Shocking! Ye Caitang is the Dean of the International Medical Research Institute.

“I surrender. There’s no messing with this one. Goodbye…” The hater said.

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“Huh? Isn’t my wife a fortune-teller?” Mr. Qin replied.

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My name is Yan, and since I was a child, I’ve been able to see some strange things.For example—In elementary school, our new neighbor Aunt Tan had a pair of all-around genius twins, who were like the “precious little geniuses” with halos above their heads. They could recite the English-Chinese dictionary backwards at three, master both Chinese and Western musical instruments by five, and hack into a country’s database by seven…Growing up next to such prodigies, my life was inhumane, tragic, and constantly subjected to comparisons.To escape the comparisons with these “other people’s children,” I specifically applied to a private boarding school for middle school.On my first day, my deskmate was a small, thin girl with bangs, wearing an old uniform, and her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.Three months later, she woke up from a nap with a “rebirth” halo above her head.She moved effortlessly among the cold academic genius, the wolf-like school bully, the fierce boss, and the gentle childhood friend, leaving me, a lonely onlooker, utterly amazed.By university, I thought I had finally escaped this abnormal world.But as soon as I stepped into my dorm room, my footsteps froze.My roommates each had halos like “ancient times to modern,” “post-apocalyptic superhuman,” “will die if not spending money,” and “ghost king revival.”I clutched my little blanket and applied to the counselor for a room change, but to no avail.Over time, I gradually got used to it. “Handover systems,” “management systems,” “book transmigration,” “infinite worlds,” “three-and-a-half-year-olds,” “interstellar live streams,” “red envelope groups”…The types of halos kept increasing, and I was able to calmly ignore all of it, focusing on my own life.Every morning, I skillfully helped my “ancient to modern” roommate, who was being blacklisted online, dodge campus paparazzi and secure seats for class.At noon, I assisted my tycoon roommate in distributing today’s haul of luxury skincare and designer bags, tasting the city’s top private chef’s custom lunchbox, and exclaiming with emotion, “Darling, can I really accept these?”In the evening, I enjoyed the flowers and plants cultivated by my superhuman roommate on the balcony, tasting a mutated cherry tomato and commenting, “I feel refreshed and purified.”Late at night, when my ghost king roommate quietly climbed back through the window, I peeked out to ask, “You’re back a bit late today, didn’t bring anything back, did you?”My name is Yan, and I am not the protagonist of this world.