Masked Knight - Chapter 257: Prometheus

Hey, my luck is pretty good… I have transmigrated into the body of a rich young master!

What’s this? A brat who told him not to look down on others… WHAT?! Did you say that he’s someone of discipline and determination? Why does that sound so familiar?

What’s that? A cripple who came from a fallen clan whose fiancee just broke off the engagement?! Wait a f*cking minute…

Huh?! I’m responsible for his broken engagement? His supposed fiancee seems to be looking at me with a…

Am I the villain of this story?! No, no, no. This won’t do. I’ll suppress them all before they get the chance to mature. I’m not going to commit the same mistakes as those losers in the novels I read in the past!

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .

[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.

In a world of shallow-minded, materialistic mortals, what would one from humble beginnings – whose face had been stomped on, spat on, oppressed for the longest while by the arrogant, pampered upper echelons of society – do, when a mysterious application pops up on a brand new phone that was meant to be the birthday gift of an ungrateful girlfriend? What if the application takes the form of a chatroom where its occupants, bearing the names of mythical, fictional beings, start giving out ‘Red Packets’, all the while spouting nonsense?

It wasn’t even malicious criticism.I just gave feedback in the tone I was asked to.So why the hell did I, the writer who just wanted to help a junior, possess this body of the prospective groom… a villain, who died in the hands of the heroine on their wedding night?