MTL - The Apocalypse’s Great Merchant - Chapter 51 I am killing you.

Looking at the desperate survivor surrounded by zombies under the high wall, Tang Ye opened his hands and shouted: Welcome to paradise (Welcome to heaven)

- Description from novelbuddy

When I opened my eyes, I found myself trapped in the very novel I despise most, and to make matters worse, I became Samuel Gebb, the tragic main character. Samuel's wife constantly brings other men into their home, and he’s forced to endure her mowns with other mens.But here's the twist: I’m not Samuel. I’m the Heavenly Demon, a being feared by the world for my martial prowess.In my first life, I was just an ordinary student who read this novel and became deeply depressed for months. In my second life, I took on the role of the Heavenly Demon and conquered the world. Now, if Abigail, the female lead, thinks she can control me like she did with Samuel, she’s gravely mistaken. I’m going to ensure she pays for what she did to Samuel.In the novel, Abigail claims she never slept with any men, but I don’t believe her, even if she’s telling the truth. I’ll make her regret the three years she tormented Samuel.Original Novel: The Marriage she turned into War.Author POV: this was utterly disgusting Novel and I'm seriously thinking why Webfic wrote it and what is the reason for Author to make Main character Suffer So much, So this will be more like a Fantasy Friction of Original and I'm gonna make sure this Novel will be MasterpiecePlease don't get me wrong but after Reading the Original Novel I'm having Trust Issues with Love and Marriage but will see if I want to make Main character to Ship with someone or to Give him Harem.

[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.