MTL - Protect Our Patriarch - v7 Chapter 1 The Blue Emperor Sacred Picture! reassignment

Lawyer Tang Fangjing had finally made it through time-travel, only to discover that he was terminally ill, thank goodness for the systemBut he needed to achieve more than two hundred percent completion in order to ensure his own survivalAnd so, an extremely unorthodox lawyer emergedThinking you can just cut off an employee and provide severance pay?Come on, let's calculate the exorbitant overtime pay, including mobile communication after hours as overtime!Property management that does nothing but collect money, thinking about pulling out just like that?Gradually establish a resident's committee, backtrack twenty years of accounts, secure a huge compensation from property management without saying, and also send the property boss to jailWho's shirking responsibility for the unfinished building?Come at it with both administrative and civil lawsuits, make clear whose responsibility it is, whoever needs to go in must go inBeyond that, there are salary disputes, labour service scams...'When you encounter a problem, sending people to jail will naturally solve the problem' — Tang Fangjing

Gabe King starts college desperate to change—to make friends, find love, and finally bury the twisted obsession he’s secretly held for his mother. But one drunken night at a party shatters everything. Inexperienced and overwhelmed, he accidentally cums inside a hooker… only to realize it’s his Mom, Angela.She doesn’t recoil. She smiles.For Angela, this is permission. The moment she’s waited for. Her yandere love for Gabe, once hidden beneath motherly concern, is now unleashed. And she’ll do anything to keep him, sabotaging his friendships, crashing his classes, and reminding him that no one will ever love him like she does.More Plot than Porn.[Some NTR, but not from the mom]

Vincent van Gogh, the painter who refused to be an accessory Of power and painted with his soul at the tip of a brush, was not understood by anyone and had to die like a madman, and he woke up in 21st century Korea.

Like a wheat field melted with gold, like a sunflower that swallowed the sun, a dazzling painter once again takes the brush.

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.

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