Doomsday: I Become Invincible By Picking Up - Chapter 476

Glenn Hughes had spent most of his life confined to a hospital bed. Brilliant yet shackled by a cruel fate, he endured ten long years under the relentless weight of an unforgiving disease. Between medications, surgeries, and agonizing treatments, death had begun to seem less like an end and more like a mercy.But when he finally closed his eyes for the last time… rest did not come.The stench of sweat, dust, and blood was the first thing to greet him. Shackled, filthy, and drained of strength, his body was no longer his own. He was no longer in a hospital but in a cell. No longer a patient, but a prisoner.“What the… what the hell is this?”Glenn had been thrust into a world of steel and prana, reborn in the body of a condemned slave. Once a noble, now nothing more than a number among the damned.Yet, something was different. There was a reason he was still alive.Witness Glenn’s transformation as he is dragged through agony and ecstasy, suffering and desire, boundless pleasure and unrelenting torment—all while shouldering a burden so crushing that any other man would break.------------------------------------------------------------------------No netorare (NTR), no system, no incest, no consanguineous relationships.

When she opened her eyes again, she transmigrated and become a foolish woman in ancient times, Chen Afu.Gazing at the hero who seemed as lofty as a god, Chen Afu touched the drool trickling from her mouth. In this life, don't be too ambitious, don't be unrealistic...Only, in this life, she was foolish yet beautiful, destitute yet incredibly lucky, her good fortune so plentiful that she couldn't use it all up.

I was proposed to by the Final Boss.

[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.