The Sinful Life of The Emperor - Chapter 72: Rose Windsor

On a certain day, Xu Xing suddenly received yin-yuan eyes; he could see a red string between lovers. Then he discovered that he had a tight connection to his own left hand.

Xu Xing: I TM …… will I be ‘solo’ for life? : )

The second day.

Xu Xing suspected that he had seen a pair of ‘gay’s. The left side of the boy’s body had two red strings. The one in front was tied to his hand, the one in the back was tied to the boy’s right side.

The bottom of Xu Xing’s body suddenly tightened. Trembling in fear, he turned his head — only to see his ‘local area’ connected to a red string tied into a beautiful, intimate bow that was attached to the school grass sitting behind him ~

Xu Xing: Excuse me???

- Description from Novelupdates

Every night, he prayed. To every god on Earth.“Please, transport me to a fantasy world when I wake up tomorrow.”And then one day, his prayers were answered.Just not in the way he had hoped for.

“Is Fate the excuse of the forsaken, is Free Will the delusion of the chosen?”Such was a question that Xavier, the Demon King, never had the chance to ask himself. As he lay defeated, awaiting his death, he wondered about the wretched life he lived.'The hero who killed me, the one who held the same ambitions as me. We both wanted good for the people, for the world. We are both two sides of the same coin, yet, fate decided that he will be the one the light will shine on.Perhaps it was me too, perhaps it was my karma for flowing the rivers of blood with my sword. But still... It was fate that squashed the humanity in me first!Damn fate, if I had one more chance, I would've lived for myself more, I wouldn't have taken this arbitrary role of being a necessary evil... This world, this game of destiny... It can burn to ashes for all I care.'As he sunk into the cold embrace of death, a certain [REDACTED] heard his dying wish with amusement and cast their die, reversing the wheel of time one last time and going all in on him on a risky gamble with the stakes of their world.

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”