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... ting by his side, watching the chaos unfold with a look that hovered between boredom and contempt. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, churned earth, and the occasional bloodied nose, but none of it seemed to stir much excitement in him anymore. He’d seen hundreds of people killing each other clearly in front of his eyes, so what were for him some tryouts shedding some blood?

His eyes, lazy and half-lidded, didn’t bother following every punch or kick. Instead, he let the tail of h ...

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Transmigrating into his own novel, Mu Yifan was very conflicted!

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Transmigrating into his own novel and becoming the zombie king that had killed the male lead who was reborn one month before the Apocalypse and wanted to take revenge, Mu Yifan has lost his calm!

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

……………………………………………………………

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