A Good Country Wife - Chapter 597 - 591_1

Gods choose those with natural talent; demons choose those who never give up.My name is Dylan Chen, a person chosen by the demons. Of course, you can also call me “Ghost Guest.” On the road of reincarnation, just mention my name, and the guards of the netherworld will make way for you.That day, I asked the heavens three questions, and the celestial beings and Buddhas remained silent. Then I knew there was no longer a place for me in this world. Therefore, I have no choice but to kill them all!Better to live a complete life as a mortal than to be an immortal for eons! This immortality, I shall not pursue!

Bob was a good guy. He had done everything you were supposed to do. He exercised, he kept to a healthy diet, he'd studied hard, gotten excellent grades, and was working towards his masters. Somehow, things just weren't working out for him like he'd been told they would. He was stuck in a thankless position, constantly passed over, and it seemed that the only being on earth that cared about him was his cat.

Then things got worse.

Never back a man into a corner unless you want to find out just how hard he can fight.

“Qu Meng’er was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, but her father had tampered with her brakes and ended her life in a car accident.

The year was 2026, and the world wasn't what it used to be. Ever since the Abyss Gates cracked open three years ago, spilling monsters and dungeons across the planet, life had turned into a chaotic mess. Cities were half-ruined, half-rebuilt, and people clung to whatever normalcy they could find. Hunters—those brave or crazy enough to fight the monsters—became the new heroes. Everyone else? Well, they just tried to survive.Fin wasn't a Hunter. He wasn't a hero either.He was just… Fin. A lanky 19-year-old with messy brown hair, a chipped front tooth from a dumb skateboard accident, and a power that everyone called useless. Absorption. Sounds cool, right? Like he could suck up energy or steal someone's strength. Nope. All it did was let him “feel” things he touched a little more than normal. He could tell you the exact texture of a brick wall or how warm a coffee mug was—big whoop. No fireballs, no super strength, no flashy moves. Just a glorified touchy-feely trick.“Fin, you gonna eat that sandwich or just stare at it like it's gonna confess its life story?” Meg's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.He blinked and looked across the rickety table at his best friend. Meg was short, loud, and had a wild mop of dyed purple hair that she swore made her look “intimidating.” It didn't.