But for a Slime - Chapter 163 - 045.2 - The Nature of Growth

[MATURE CONTENT]“Kiss or Kill?”“Karma.”*****Broken by a pack that was supposed to be home, Tamiko swore to never attend any mating ceremonies. He knew they would eventually reject him, so he didn't want to risk the heartbreak even more.However, a lonely best friend in need of a mate and a bunch of convincing later, Tamiko found himself at the entrance of the mating ceremony.As if that wasn't enough, the midnight moon gave him what he didn't want the most. A mate. But not just any mate. Gabe; the alpha's dark son, a man who made it his mission to make Tamiko's life harder, and also the man Tamiko hated more than life itself.As their eyes glowed in the night, Tamiko didn't see a mate, he saw a very rare opportunity; a chance to run, or be the one that Gabe ran from.He chose the latter.Like a gift from the moon, he realized the one thing that could burn down the Grealor pack.He bore the mark of lycan royalty, more precisely, King Zaffuto's mark.The outcast, Tamiko, was the lost lycan prince.

I found myself in a parallel universe, awakening as a male priest. Everything seemed perfect; after all, as a healer, specializing in aiding women should pose no issue, right? However, I couldn’t help but wonder about some peculiar spells in my repertoire.

Firstly, what in the world is the “Instantaneous Outbreak of Acute Gastroenteritis” spell? And don’t even get me started on the “Osteoporosis” spell. What purpose could these serve in my healing endeavors? The confusion only deepened with spells like “Blood Burn,” “Gradual Freeze,” and “Mental Chaos.” Can I still peacefully focus on healing women with such ominous abilities?

Comparing my spells to those of other professions, I couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast. Mages wield “Doomstorm” and “Ice Age,” swordsmen boast “Sword Rain: Homecoming” and “Wind-Cutter Slash,” while archers showcase “Arrow Rain: Shooting Stars” and “Storm Arrow.” Yet, my ultimate spells are disturbingly named “Cancer Cell Proliferation,” “T-Virus Infection,” and “Rabies Outbreak.”

In the midst of it all, a certain character, some crying girl, laments, “Noooo, I just took a bath, who would have thought that I would become infected!”

Meanwhile, a villain chillingly asks, “Do any of you know what it feels like to burst apart while spouting blood? No! You don’t know!”

Even a boss character confesses, “Dear family, who can understand? I just took a nap, and when I woke up, I suddenly found that I have no kidneys!”

Having opened his eyes once more, Chu Zheng found the world turned upside down. He had transformed from a Cultural Relic Restorer into a household slave.At the same time, a new feature had emerged within his body: a Repair Panel that refreshed daily, enabling his skills to continuously advance.【Incomplete Mantra (repairable)】→【Great Circulatory Breathing Guideline】【Ruined Temple Remnant (repairable)】→【Ancestral Dao Golden Body】【Damaged Spirit Root (repairable)】→【Superior Quality Immortal Bone】…………In an era of cultivating truth, heroes compete fiercely, and prodigies rise together.From ancient times, sages and wise men were buried by the sands of time; a lifetime of glory or disgrace turned to naught in a blink, and only a few names are recorded in the annals of history.Having lived this life a second time, Chu Zheng did not seek the arts of immortality, but merely wished to have his name remembered by future generations.

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”