Apocalypse Rebirth: Beauties Surround Me - Chapter 142: Which man wasn’t lustful

Lee Se-Hoon, the blacksmith of humanity’s last desperate united force, fought against the demons until the very end. However, the result was mutual destruction, with the world coming to an end. The moment he took his own life over that futile conclusion—

“…What is this?”

He had regressed to his days as a candidate at the hero training institution, Babel Academy. Having obtained a second chance, he swore to use anything as material to gain victory this time. Anything at all!

She was the illegitimate daughter of a wealthy family—abandoned by her father, oppressed by his legal wife, and humiliated by the so-called sister. She watched her mother perish in a raging fire and was thrown into the flames herself.Her name was Janice. And she died in that fire.Ten years later, under a new identity and the name “Janet,” she survives in silence. Forced by her stepmother to marry a wealthy heir rumored to be “paralyzed and disabled,” she becomes entangled in a vicious struggle of family betrayal and ruthless power games.With cold eyes, she watches the hypocrites who once trampled her into the mud—one by one, they will become prey on her road to revenge.Her wheelchair-bound “husband” Philip, the feuding brothers Charles and August… But what she didn't expect was that the boy who once quietly handed her a handkerchief all those years ago would become the most unpredictable piece in her game of fate.She has returned—not for hatred, but to personally end the past that was once crushed beneath their feet.

Reincarnation.Or rather... transmigration.Whatever it is, it wasn't something i ever thought i would be a victim of.But here i was...... a villain in the very game i died playing.But... as though that wasn't enough.I am not even going to make it past the first arc.Scratch that.The very first day in the academy...... that's the day i die.(Earlier chaps will involve info drop, the true story starts from the Academy Arc)

In the Jiuxiao Continent, martial arts is respected. The weak are like ants living in the ruins of dark alleys, while the strong are like dragons roaring and gathering at the top of the clouds. The laws of this place use blood as ink and bones as inkstones. A three-foot-long sword can split the sun and the moon, and a murderous thought can stir up a bloody wind. There was once a drunk madman who trampled eighteen royal cities to pieces. Wherever the sword pointed, thousands of miles of mountains and rivers were dyed red. There was also a saint who lowered his eyes to calm the nine thunder tribulations, and with a flick of his sleeves, a golden lotus suddenly appeared in the abyss.