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... standing within a tower once more. However, despite the change in environment, he just kept staring into thin air as the “fight” he’d just seen replayed in his head.

Calling it a fight at all felt wrong.

It was more a display of absolute dominance. An effortless one, done simply as a chore as if the man had swatted a fly bothering him. What’s more... the concepts innate to his Path of the Heretic-Chosen remained in effect, which was why Jake assumed he understood so much of what ...

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I seem to have reincarnated in the world of an r-rated romance fantasy novel. And not just as an ordinary character, but as the witch who loses her life to the crazy male lead!

Luckily there is a long 200 years until the main characters are born and grow into their roles.

Now that my life is not in imminent danger, shall we leisurely think of ways to avoid death?

However, I had not taken notice of a very important detail about the time I’d be spending ‘safe from imminent danger’. 200 years was by no means a short waiting period and by the time the younger version of the male lead appeared in front of me , I had completely forgotten the original novel’s plot!

Oh, whatever, now that it’s come to this, the only way to survive is to raise the male lead into a sane and stable adult! The first step to avoiding death by the hands of the tyrant male lead is changing this extremely frightened child’s life.

“It must be very inconvenient for you to have me suddenly show up on your doorstep, I’m sorry. You can tell me to go away, I’ll be fine.”

“Nonsense. Do I look like someone who could be inconvenienced by a little boy like you? Also, what do you mean by you’ll be fine even if told to go away? It’s not like you have anywhere to go back to, kid.”

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I am a female secretary of an overbearing president in a typical dog blood drama text.

The kind of person who doesn’t have a name at the end of the day, and could only be called “secretary”, one who wears a tight fitting black dress and a pair of 10cm high heels every day, running around in front of the president, humbly praying for the president’s attention, and hating the heroine.

In fact, I really don’t. If I like the president, I’ll be struck by lightning.

I’m getting more and more sick of the president lately. Except for the outstanding appearance that the author forced on him, this person is really useless from head to toe, low in EQ, and low in IQ.

A legendary business genius who is all-powerful, but he doesn’t even understand anything, chickens know more than him.

I had to reject all of his unreasonable demands every day, and on the way, teach him relevant knowledge of economic law and finance, and gradually…he became a master.

I’m so tired, I really want to quit my job.

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Paintings of TerrorChapter 312: New Year Pictures
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If Ke Xun could do it again, he would have never left his house to go out and flirt with guys, even if it would mean getting beaten to death.

Weren’t they supposed to have just been taking shelter from the rain in a museum and looking at some erot*c paintings while they were at it? Why…did they enter the world inside a painting?!

Mu Yiran: Every single one of us is acting out a role in the painting.

Ke Xun’s eyes lit up: How do we get into an erot*c painting?

Mu Yiran gave him a long, drawn-out look: Shut your eyes and lie down.

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