Mated at First Sight - Chapter 38 - 37 - Special Friendship Price of 180000_1

A man reborn, more interested in his next meal than clan politics, finds himself caught in a power play that could reshape Konoha.Uchiha Masashi has seen it all before - literally. With memories of his past lives and abilities that shouldn't be possible, he'd rather perfect his combat skills than deal with clan drama.But when the newly appointed Fourth Hokage shows up with a proposal to unleash the Uchiha's power beyond their traditional police role, even Masashi has to pay attention. The clan sees opportunity. The village sees profit. Masashi sees the threads of fate that once led to his clan's destruction starting to weave again.As the Uchiha rush to prove themselves “ten times better than the Hyūga,” Masashi walks a fine line between duty and survival.He knows too much - about the Nine-Tails incident that could destroy his clan's reputation, about young Shisui's tragic destiny, about the wheels already in motion.The question is: will he bother trying to change any of it?After all, in a world where even the strongest must sometimes bend to fate, sometimes the smartest move is to grab some dango and watch it all unfold.

“If you were the supreme master of the Dao of Immortals, revered by countless beings, able to glimpse life and death, and understand the destiny, what kind of woman would you seek as a partner?”Jiang Feng: “I would marry an eighteen-year-old.”“...do you want to die?”“I'd rather die to marry an eighteen-year-old.”

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.

I became a staff officer of an empire whose defeat was certain.The only way to escape from the empire with an 8-year mandatory service was through dishonorable discharge.But then…“You can be glad, Lieutenant. Thanks to your accurate instinct, our military could prevent damage in advance.”The more I struggled to be discharged, the higher my performance evaluation became.