The Male Main’s Uncle Is Openly Obsessed With Me - Chapter 138 - Mine is Fine, but Others are Off-limits

Once, I really wanted to hang out at Hogwarts, living a life of eating and dying, picking up girls, provoking professors, and violating school rules to find excitement.

If you’re in a bad mood, beat Voldemort; if you’re in a good mood, beat Voldemort; if you’re in a bad mood, sorry, Voldemort, I’ll beat you anyway!

Dumbledore, do you need me to twist your nose back for you, although it will hurt a bit.

Professor Snape, you are a good person, um, I said this very seriously.

Others, don’t mind me summarizing you with an ellipsis?

………………

Later, I grew up…

Then, I can’t find a way back anymore…

I would like to write this article to commemorate me or our lost youth. I think of running under the sunset that day…

Produced by melon seeds, it is absolutely finished!

- Description from novelbuddy

Mutations occurred around the whole world and soon, a demonic apocalypse befell.

In order to defend against demonic beings, humans swiftly entered a globalized digital age. Everyone would be able to choose between a fighting or a supporting job through awakening once they reached the age of 18. These people would get stronger by slaying demonic beings.

Lu Yan had awakened to the weakest job, a Necromancer. However, he had also received a Job Supporting System and was able to reawaken into a hidden job, Lord of the Death.

“Necromancers are so weak that they die in one hit!”

“Man, that dude’s luck is just the worst. He did get a fighting job, but it’s the weakest. What can he do? Summon a few skeletons?”

“Also, aren’t there only like a handful of Necromancers out there? There aren’t a lot of experience or resources for them to inherit. Their future seems bleak.”

“Forget Necromancers! I got the Holy Knight job! Your all-around king is here!”

Not long after that, Lu Yan appeared in a full set of Death Nether Armor while wielding the Death Soul Scythe and leading a 100 thousand-strong death army. With a single swing of his scythe, he split the mythical rank demonic beast in half.

“Necromancers are weak? What does that have to do with me, the Lord of the Death?”

She was never supposed to love him, he was the one person she despised, but for how long could she deny the flutter and Sparks he made her feel.*******She is an assassin, the princess of the witches, sent to marry the Vampire King with one purpose—to kill him and secure her clan’s victory in a war that has raged for centuries.He is Rhydian, the brooding king burdened by his father’s bloody legacy, forced into the alliance to protect his people from the looming Dragon Empire.Rhydian distrusts the witches, while Seraphina resents the vampires, but neither is prepared for what fate has in stall. As they face palace intrigues, ancient prophecies, and brewing rebellion, their indifference begins to shift into something neither expected—love, an emotion they both try to deny, but is impossible to ignore.I won't call this an enemies to lovers because she is the only one who hates him, also...this will contain R18 scenes, I'll always highlight that on every chapter so you can skip if you want.A/N: I hope you all will stick with me till the end, feel free to check out my other book, I'm in love with a grim reaper, you might like it, I hope you do.Excerpt;Her fingers brushed against his forehead before he could react, her warm palms cupping both sides of his face as she studied him intently. His breath hitched at the sudden intimacy, his heart giving an involuntary stutter.What the hell was she doing?His gaze traced over her face, mapping every detail—the sharp glint of her violet eyes, the delicate curve of her nose, and her lips... God, her lips. Plump, red, slightly parted as she assessed him. He wanted to taste them again, to claim them fully.“Your fever seems to be coming down,” she murmured, tilting her head slightly. “My blood really did the trick, I see...”His jaw clenched.Did she have to check his temperature this way? There were plenty of other ways to do it—ones that didn't involve tempting him with that mesmerizing face of hers.She started to pull her hands away, but before she could, he caught her wrist, stopping her.She looked up at him, startled.“If you wanted to check my temperature, you could've done so in a simpler way,” he said, his lips curving into a playful grin. He tugged her closer, his grip firm but gentle. “Are you trying to seduce me, Purple?”Her heartbeat stuttered against his chest. He could hear it. Feel it.Then, to his surprise, she didn't pull away.Instead, a slow, wicked smile spread across her lips. She leaned in, her body pressing against his just enough to make his muscles tense.“What if I am?” she whispered, deliberately biting her bottom lip.Rhydian's breath caught.The last of his control snapped.“You asked for it,” he growled.In the next second, he crashed his lips against hers.The kiss was deep, desperate, consuming. His hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head to deepen the angle as his tongue swept into her mouth, claiming her fully. She responded instantly, matching his hunger with equal fervor.She wasn't perfect at kissing yet—he could tell she was still learning—but she made up for it with pure intensity, and damn if it didn't make his blood boil.His other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him as his lips moved against hers with feverish need. His tongue tangled with hers, teasing, tasting, drinking her in as if she were the only thing that could satiate him.He bit down softly, drawing a gasp from her, and that little sound sent a violent pulse of arousal straight through him.He was already rock hard, aching with need.He hadn't touched a woman since the marriage arrangement was made. Maybe that was why he was losing control so easily. Or maybe it was just her. Maybe it had always been her.

It’s not always the Asians who get isekaied. Very rarely does an American get chosen, though the lords of isekai have reasons for that. It’s time for John to remind them of those reasons.This story started as a gag. It is no longer a gag.