The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent - Chapter 35

[40,000 Words Before Lock-In] [R-18] [No NTR] [Smut] [Legal Teens] [Single MILFs] [Feisty GILFs] [Dangerously Funny]Renowned worldwide as Everyman, Joji Sins dominated the adult industry for decades, winning Best Adult Actor four years straight from 2010 to 2028, and building a strange kind of public love through quiet philanthropy despite his dirty reputation.Thirty years later, Joji is seventy seven, nearly completely deaf, and no longer in front of the camera. He did not get washed away. He retired into power instead, directing the scenes himself and still going strong.On the side, he even earned a proper medical license and became a real doctor.Then one ordinary day turns cruel. A broken light bulb. A ladder slip. A back that almost snapped wrong.The hospital discharges him three days later like he is already finished.His stomach grumbled after being in such a gloomy environment. A hotdog for a dollar across the road. Not too bad of a deal.After almost getting hit by a rearing armored truck, he got his change from a fan.Fucking finally you thought? Wrong.A runaway truck hurtles toward him.Joji breathes in relief. He is alive, just scraped up, glass shards biting into his wrinkled skin.Then something sprays his face. The stink is sharp, hard alcohol. His eyes track the source. Unleaded gasoline is gushing nearby.“Mother fu...”...Joji gasps and wakes. An unfamiliar bed. Gaudy ceiling ornaments. Steel clashing outside. A splitting headache.Memories that are not his punching through his skull. As he reaches for reality, a cold presence snaps into place before his eyes.{Welcome, good Sir Joji of Sins.}

When she was ten, she said, “When I grow up, I want to be the President!”“It's impossible, but you can be the President's wife,” he replied.He gazed at her tenderly. His youthful eyes filled with deep affection, as if he wanted to give her the whole world.When she was thirty-three, due to a leak of military secrets, she was imprisoned for treason, and she saw his signature on the death sentence document.She finally understood that the so-called undying love was fake, and that power and status were the true goals.Love is just like a ghost—more talked about than seen....Reborn and back to the age of twenty, she opened her eyes and shouted, “I must be the President!”“But, Madam... Your husband is already the President,” someone said.She was stunned for only a second, then viciously replied, “Then I'll take him down first, and I'll become the President!”A man gently pushed open the half-closed door, chuckling softly, “Did I hear wrong? Sweetie, you want to... take me down?”

On December 11th, the apocalypse began. A new, mutated coronavirus—the Zeta variant—spread worldwide, and it was far more deadly than any version before it. Those infected without strong immune systems turned into zombies, and within two days, chaos reigned, wiping out 80% of humanity.Zack, an ordinary guy, found himself in the middle of this nightmare, struggling to survive. Lacking the skills to fight off the zombies, he was soon overwhelmed and met a tragic end… or so he thought.When Zack suddenly finds himself alive again, he’s back at the start of the apocalypse but with one huge difference—an advanced AI has armed him with powerful technology. Equipped with a zero-point reactor, power armor, a super serum, and much more, he now has the tools to turn the tide.Follow Zack as he builds a new civilization from the ruins and fights to reclaim the world in this thrilling journey of survival and innovation.

Hello, everyone. My name is Shen JianGuo. I’m a night school teacher. I mainly teach the subjects of (Marxist) philosophy and ethics. I occasionally review new policies and measures for the students. I never see my colleagues and students during the day. The training institute classrooms are all abandoned schools, hospitals, or houses. The bus number is 444 and it always appears in front of my door at 12 midnight and disappears before 5am.

What? You say I met a ghost? Impossible. As a staunch scientific materialist, I don’t believe ghosts exist in this world.

But recently I’ve had an issue to raise. Can the training institute bring the class time up a little bit? Wouldn’t it be good to start around 8pm? Though I fear nothing on earth or in the heavens, I’m afraid of going bald.

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