What Do You Mean My Cute Disciples Are Yanderes? - Chapter 1047 No Matter Where You Go, The Trash Is Still The Same

Kisha Aldens is a normal office worker with average earnings, not until she suddenly sees a system countdown in front of her. Her mind suddenly received a prompt warning about the apocalypse and urged her to integrate with the system to assist her with her survival.“Have I overworked myself again?” She thought while pinching the bridge of her nose. She blinked a few more times but the system interface is still there.Little did she know that this system would be her last lifeline in the upcoming apocalypse where human morals would be the lowest, trust is only a word and betrayal could happen in the blink of an eye.A naive person like her had to learn her lesson the hard way on how to survive and navigate in the zombie-infested world. And the worst part, she had to die 99 times to harden her heart and learn how to read the human heart. How will her 100th time be different from the previous lives, will she survive this time?And will survival be her only problem in the heart of the Apocalypse? No, there was a deeper scheme in play which she has to uncover moving forward.

On the engagement night, after being betrayed by her fiancé, Ye Shu decisively turns around to marry Shen Shaochen, the number one abstinent male god of Jin City, in a flash marriage.After marriage, she thought that just by quietly giving birth to an heir to the wealthy family, all would be well.Little did she know that serving the great demon king would be so frustrating.Quit smoking, quit drinking, quit gaming!Ye Shu silently grits her teeth and endures, and on the day the baby is born, she brings the divorce agreement, “Mr. Shen, the task of bearing a child is completed, please sign the divorce.”Shen Shaochen: “Mrs. Shen, the agreement didn't say that only one child would be enough...”Ye Shu begs for mercy, “Husband, I was wrong! I won't divorce anymore.”(1V1, both male and female leads are clean and committed.)

Jiang Chaosheng has passed the book. The male protagonist is the reborn prince with excellent luck, and he is the cannon fodder prince who is destined to fail in the palace fight. He is about to be sent to the desolate island in the extreme south, and the fiefs are less than 100 people.

Jiang Chaosheng sunbathed salt, fished… He soon prepared abundant supplies for the rest of his life, but there was an accident when he was eating and waiting to die. He was slow to discover that there were fish thieves in the house!

Jiang Chaosheng set a trap and successfully caught the fish thief on the spot
It was a beautiful merman with eyes like emeralds and hair like sapphire
The poor little merman has a slender waist, glistening scales, and a pitiful posture: I can’t afford the supplies, but I can be your wife and give birth to a little mermaid to repay you
Jiang Chaosheng: Also… not impossible
After a long time, Jiang Chaosheng learned that his wife is actually the villain of the original text, the psychological shadow of the male protagonist Long Aotian, the King of the Sea who is rich in the sea.
The lucky salted fish attack vs the cruel shark emperor
Content tags: childbirth, spirits, ghosts, sweet texts, through books
Search keywords: Protagonists: Jiang Chaosheng, Ji Xuanbing ┃ Supporting roles: ┃ Others:

- Description from novelbuddy

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”