MTL - A Necromancer Who Just Wants to Plant Trees - Chapter 187 The magic of the contract (big

Is it wrong to face the perils of Dungeon alone, in a single-member guild blessed by a failed goddess? Maybe.

Is it wrong to dream of playing hero to hapless maidens in Dungeon? Maybe not. After one misguided adventure, Bell quickly discovers that anything can happen in the labyrinth-even chance encounters with beautiful women.

Only problem? He’s the one who winds up the damsel in distress!

[Special Containment Procedures]Calamity neared, and a special Containment Subject known as “Bonfire Company” awoke from its slumber, sending out invitation after invitation to join its ranks—“When The Night comes, there ought to be someone to light a fire, to illuminate in all directions.”At the same time, it also brought forth a prophecy.In the year 2044, at the end of a year, a dark disaster would descend from the heavens.

I, Lin Yun, with my exceptional aptitude, had thought that I would be trained as a key disciple, however...“The Demon Sect will never expect us to send such an excellent disciple undercover. Once you attain a high position within the Demon Sect, with our help both from within and without, why would we worry about the Demon Sect's destruction?”Three years later.“The Righteous Path will never expect us to send such a promising disciple undercover. Once you attain a high position within the Righteous Path, with our help both from within and without, why would we worry about the Righteous Path's destruction?”Lin Yun: I just want to quietly cultivate to immortality...

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.”