MTL - I, Xingyue, a Manga Artist! - v2 Chapter 1215 Variety

Vincent van Gogh, the painter who refused to be an accessory Of power and painted with his soul at the tip of a brush, was not understood by anyone and had to die like a madman, and he woke up in 21st century Korea.

Like a wheat field melted with gold, like a sunflower that swallowed the sun, a dazzling painter once again takes the brush.

“Is this a game, or did aliens make me time-travel?”

“It’s terrifying, people who die in the game actually die in the real world!”

“Damn, the whole city is mine, and there are still things that can be brought from the game to the real world, it’s just…”

Song Jian aimlessly wandered through the empty city, accompanied only by mutated zombies and monsters. His only goal now was to survive in such a zombie-infested Doomsday City.

……………………………………………………………

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Empires rise and fall on the Yulan Continent. Saints, immortal beings of unimaginable power, battle using spells and swords, leaving swathes of destruction in their wake. Magical beasts rule the mountains, where the brave – or the foolish – go to test their strength. Even the mighty can fall, feasted on by those stronger. The strong live like royalty; the weak strive to survive another day.

She is the 21st century best secret agent, died after a plane crash and transmigrated to a dysnasty not found in history. Not to mention being reincarnated as an infant, to suffer repeatedly by being framed by the Madame, bullied and humiliated by the Shu daughters, years of patience only for the sky to strike.

The number one landlord in the country? Jiang Hu’s hard to get a hold off and can barely catch a glimpse off ghost doctor? A patriarchal clan of saints who was supposed to be extinct a thousand years ago? Which one is really her?

He is the Tianfeng Dynasty’s most capable prince, and at the same time the most beloved son of the emperor. He is cold, he is ruthless, he is cruel, he is bloodthirsty, and he treated women as clothing. Everyone knows that he is heartless, but nobody knows that he has been in love before.

He was a man who has been silenced, her lover from a thousand years ago. A thousand years of entanglement, willing to give everything, just to exchange for that one beautiful woman’s smile.

“Who are you?’

” I’m your husband.”

“You think I’m three years old? My husband looks better than you.”

“I’m your husband 1,000 years ago.”

The woman, petrified, carefully asked, “How old are you this year?”

“2,220 years old.”

“Get the hell out! Bastard!! 2,220 years old!! Why don’t you say your dad was 12,000 years old?”

“My father is in fact this age, you still remember.”

“…”

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