A Core Ship From The Start - Chapter 339 - 266: Goodbye_1

A prince sent into exile, without the means to fight back.

Things were going great for the demon Bael-Sharoth until a little girl summoned him to open a jar of tomato sauce. Now he's trapped in the human world along with his arch nemesis the beautiful and capable Maharet Flameheart. Life isn't easy for a demon in a small town. But at least the parks are hellhound friendly and the werewolf at the local bookshop seems nice enough. Bael and Maharet must find a loving human family to take in this powerful young witch before time runs out or risk being stuck on earth forever.What to expect: A cozy found family romantic comedy in the style of Good Omens and On a Pale Horse.Gruesomely Wholesome. Enemies to Lovers. Strong Male and Female Characters. Loyal Hellhounds. Sassy Hellcats. A happy ending.

One morning, after being bound to the system, MC started his routine of always being captured/ attacked by the ML.

It doesn’t matter if he transmigrated into the ML’s little brother (TN: Here I think brother disciple) or master or opponent, but in the end he is still forcibly taken by the ML.

After transmigrating to many worlds:

MC: Come out system!!! The heck?! Why do these MLs not love their female goddesses, but insist on doing it with me! Aaaaahh!!!

System: …. __(:3」∠)_ Don’t ask me, I also don’t know.

- Description from Novelupdates

Karl awoke to find himself shockingly reduced to a crippled Evil God confined within a bottle.The Fischer family had inadvertently become his favored members, sharing a fate connected by blood throughout the generations.They established a secret clan, infiltrated the state, manipulated wars, ascended the God Pantheon stairway, and fought for the honor and future of the family.They were assassins lurking in the shadows, beloved scholars, esteemed priests, powerful dukes, and legends in heroic epics.From budding to robust growth, steampunk evolved; the Spirit Realm descended through dreams; witches and ancient gods stepped forth, and people listened to the lost whispers at their ears.They were both the creators and the enders of stories.Generation after generation, in a continuous succession, they marched forward.“Step over my corpse and go on,” he said.