MTL - The Cold Lord God Always Acts Like a Spoiled Brat To Me - Chapter 873 Spoiler: White Moonlight

Nicholas Crowley is used to scraping by in a world where magic is dying. The modern age has left the arcane behind, and the few remaining practitioners fight over scraps like starving dogs. That, however, is no longer his problem. While performing a ritual, something interferes, and his soul is ripped from his body. He awakens during the Class ceremony as Nick, a kid living on the frontier of the Green Ocean, a seemingly infinite expanse of trees brimming with rare ingredients and powerful creatures. Mana is abundant here, and the omnipresent System allows for feats he had once thought impossible. And yet, not everything is as rosy as it seems. Legends walk the land, and Gods require their due. Will his experience as an Occultist be enough to navigate this wild new world?

The world is diverse and flourishing. Humanity has changed, and with it, brought in a new era of prosperity. Males and females still exist, but the spectrum from which humanity is cast has broadened. With the introduction of alpha, omega, and beta, humanity has evolved even further.In such a word, Dr. Andrew Knox, known environmental researcher, is happy being a beta male. It has made his life easier by being middle ground, and as much as some wish he was one way or the other, he’s happy being who he is. Thriving even.He works in a world renowned research facility. He makes friends easily, and his projects are always funded. He even found someone who he thinks he could end up marrying if things continue in the right direction.That, and the vacant house next to his apartment building gets bought by a new neighbour. A cute, but cautious omega who relies on Andrew as a beta for help. Andrew couldn’t be happier. He loves being a helper, and loves when people rely on him.All in all, Andrew really thinks he has everything made.That is, until a research project with shoddy data is thrown back into his face that he has no recollection of working on, and all of his reputation disintegrates in between one heartbeat and the next.Heartbroken, it isn’t until Andrew wakes up, chained to a wall that everything becomes clear. He becomes a test subject to one of the scientists that he trusted. That he expected would never harm him.The life he had known, where he was a respected researcher was ripped out from underneath him. His identity and everything he’s ever known is stolen from him from a crazed researcher who he had trusted, maybe even loved.He has to relearn who he is, what he is, from scratch.Thankfully, he has one person in his corner. He just never expected to have to rely on someone whose shoulders were so small.This is an a/b/o story, and will have those tropes associated with it. I hope you enjoy :)

The mountain village boy accidentally got the fairy gourd, and he rose step by step to cultivate immortality and longevity.

Ripe elixir, mortal flow.

- Description from novelbuddy

The clock struck midnight when Ruelle heard the echo of footsteps. She tensed, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end in the cool night air.“You shouldn't be here,” Ruelle whispered, her voice a breathless murmur. The silhouette finally came to stand under the moonlight, his dark red eyes watching her and his inky black hair ruffling.“Shouldn't I?” His voice was a dark caress, and she stood there captivated by the danger he exuded like perfume.“I haven’t seen you for the last two days,” his tone low. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the silk of her nightgown, tracing the trembling outline of her collarbone. “Tell me, were you avoiding me, or perhaps... entertaining other offers?”Ruelle’s heart raced, her breaths shallow. She declared, “I don't belong to anyone.”“A bold claim,“ he murmured, his breath a tantalising chill against her skin as he leaned in. ”Yet here you are, pulse racing, your body tensed as if in anticipation of my touch.”His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face towards his. The moonlight caught his eyes, revealing a glint of predatory intent. “Or must I remind you whose touch you truly crave?”