Exploring Technology in a Wizard World - Chapter 555 - 553 Witch Forest

Lucien, a guy who has nothing but the desire to save his mother. To get strong enough, he makes a contract with the demon of L.u.s.t. And now, only by making a great harem, will he gain the power to protect those dear to him.

I’m not a gamer. In fact, I barely touched games—never had the time or interest.I’m a 23-year-old college dropout, part-time construction worker, and full-time avoider of adult responsibilities.That is, until my little sister nagged me into trying a romance simulation game called Echoes of the Crimson Throne.I played it. Liked it more than I expected. I even completed it.And the next thing I knew… I woke up inside the game.Not as the hero.Not even as a love interest.I was now the personal attendant of Alice Draken—the villainess, the Prince’s fiancée, and the iron-fisted Ruler of the North.A woman whose downfall was guaranteed... unless I do something about it.

What does it feel like to be betrayed by the person closest and most trusted?Having been reborn, Hua Mi says that the first priority in surviving the apocalypse is to have sufficient supplies, stay away from the crowd and the White Lotus, and lay low until the end.Just as she rolled up her sleeves, ready to make a big effort, she suddenly activated a supermarket space and the Cashier System?!Tsk, why struggle in life when you can just stock up on goods and breeze through it?However, looking down at her increasingly large belly, Hua Mi carried baby formula in her left hand and a Chopper in her right.Where did this kid come from?!The plan had gone a bit awry, the first priority was to ensure the baby’s safe birth, and, to be wary of the man who kept staring at her belly every day.Man: Honey, why do I feel like you're getting fatter recently? You look like you're pregnant.Hua Mi: It's not like...

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.