The God of Underworld - Chapter 59 - 14: To Each Their Own

Changqing has always felt that she’s incomparable to Guan Ying in every aspect. Even though she is pretty and has a good family background, this world is nothing more than a world where Princes are more attracted to Cinderellas.

All Pete wanted was to be buried in wine grapes. Was that too much to ask?Now he's in a fantasy world, far from home, and stuck underground in the body of a smelly dwarf with fantastic facial hair. The worst part though? The swill that the dwarves are falling all over themselves to drink. Its flat, it's watery, and it has the alcohol content of a rancid coconut. Can Pete save the dwarves from their own Sour fate, or will he be forever doomed to plink his pickaxe away in hopes that he hits the mother lode. Come for the cozy fantasy, stay for the beer puns that will leave you hop-ping mad! A bubbly slice of life LitRPG with love, laughter, and a little melancholy, just like drinking a bottle of Whitbier on the beach. Has some monster fights but no real gore. No elves or harems allowed.

America, 1980. No sooner had Xu Yi transmigrated than he was put on the dissection table; then he gradually came to understand the true nature of this world. “Studying medicine can’t exorcise undead demons; I must become an exorcist!” he resolved silently to himself. On a misty, rain-soaked night. “Miss Evil Spirit over there, the night is cold and damp; be careful not to catch a chill! Come over here and warm yourself by the fire!” Xu Yi said, holding a lighter, as the pale gold flame slowly approached the other. The Evil Spirit shrank back, looking at Xu Yi with fear. “Don’t be afraid, I just want to warm you up...” Xu Yi’s face broke into a warm smile, “by setting you on fire!” Ding dong! Ding dong! “Sign-in at the Land of Fear successful, Resurrection Coin awarded!” “Synthesis pathway requirements met, do you wish to combine the following entries?” Psychic + Scholar + Painter = Psychic Painter! Saintly Offspring + Gunfight Technique + Revolver Mastery = Holy Gunslinger! Undead + Revelation + Holy Nation = God!

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?