How can I have a heart of a demonic god in my body?! - Chapter 129 - 0: Savoring Fine Wine

The best actor was shooting a doomsday movie when he suddenly transmigrated to a real doomsday world and became Aon Flearov, a young man with a huge debt and a blood-sucking family.What does one do in the apocalypse?Of course, shoot variety shows, live streams, do ads, act in movies, hold concerts and fan meetings—The whole showbiz world was placed in real apocalypses, and Aon, a newly-debuted doomsday star, was thrown to a random variety show to fight zombies!It was at this desperate moment that Aon awakened a superpower—A system.DING! [Heyo, dad, your son is online~]Aon: [Son, are you a farming system? A counterattack system? A pay-to-win system?? Anything will do!]The system instantly burst into tears: [B-but dad, I'm a superstar system!]And so, in a doomsday dating variety show:The system picked and chose a few “cabbages” seriously:[Dad, do you want to find me a zombie step mom or an alien step dad? Old or young? One, two, three, or four?]In a doomsday gourmet show:The system handed a frying pan, spatula, guitar, piano:[Go, dad! I want a stir-fry zombie brain, alien omakase, mutated beast AYCE, spirit plant pancakes— ]In a doomsday idol survival show:The system looked at the zombies and aliens crying on their knees, begging for mercy:[Dad! They're all moved by your singing! They want an encore!][Dad! After you do the zombie dance, the zombies collectively change their race's name!]Doing part-time jobs in the eternal sun apocalypse, camping in a natural disaster doomsday, living with aliens, styling zombies in Doomsday Supermodel, turning into plants and fighting zombies, fighting against fellow doomsday celebrities in Doomsday Survival championships—Here, there are various shows you can and can't imagine. Name one, and it will come true.#An actor who cannot become a superstar isn't a good doomsday survivor#The three no:No R18No haremNo BL/Yuri— no bullying the author!PS: This novel is written by the author's cat

I returned to Earth as the invincible Knight King. But the Gods came with me.

Battlegrounds of the Gods, New World

Ethan was an extra in the game, and an opportunity presented itself.

[Subscribe to the god you want!]

“Everyone wants me?”

-Mortal, please subscribe to me!

Ethan had become the idol of many gods,

His every step shook the world, and the gods took notice!

“Block him.”“He's technically still my boss.”“Then block him with dignity.”The call ended again.And then started again.I let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a sob, then finally answered with the enthusiasm of a snail crawling through salt.“Yes, Mr. Walton?”“Have you changed your mind yet?”I collapsed onto the towel and gazed at the sky as though it might consume me entirely if I pleaded sweetly enough.“Do you ever take a break?” I asked, shielding my eyes with one hand.“You're avoiding the question.”“Because it's a dumb question.”He exhaled, the sound sharp and irritated even over phone. “It's not a dumb question. It's a business offer.”“It's a weird offer-one that I already said no to.”There was a brief pause, and I could practically hear him clenching his jaw through the speaker.“You are acting unreasonably.”“ Unreasonable?” I sat up. “I'm not the one drafting fake girlfriend contracts like it's a normal Tuesday.”“Isabella-”“Certainly not, Mr. Walton.” I mimicked his tone perfectly. “I told you I'm not doing it. You need to find someone else to play pretend with.”SYNOPSISIsabella Miller thought saying no to her boss’s fake dating offer was the end of the story.But Adrien Walton doesn’t take no—especially not when he’s convinced she’s a gold digger.Suddenly, her student loans are piling up, her father’s vet clinic is on the brink of eviction and her brother is about to be kicked out of college. Coincidence? She thinks not.Adrien Walton is calm, calculating—and he's just pulled every string to corner Isabella into the perfect position.Now she’s stuck choosing between pride and survival.So she agrees to his offer: be his fake girlfriend.No feelings attached. No drama. Just business.Or so she thought.“Conference Room B. Fifteen minutes,” he said, passing by without a glance.The folder he pushed across the table landed with a thud.I opened it. The contract. All of it.---Enemies to lovers? Check.Slow burn? Hmmnyea.Banter so sharp it might file your nails? Yes.Delicious workplace tension? Of course.Tension that could melt steel?Absolutely.Smut?? Wanna find out?Welcome to corporate romance warfare. There’s no escaping this contract.