Almighty Video Game Designer - Chapter 23

In a fantasy world where martial artists can split mountains and creeks with a wave of their hand and break rivers with a kick, there exists a little restaurant like this.

The restaurant isn’t large, but it is a place where countless apex existences will rush into.

There, you can taste egg-fried rice made from phoenix eggs and dragon blood rice.

There, you can drink strong wine brewed from vermillion fruit and water from the fountain of life.

There, you can taste the barbecued meat of a ninth grade supreme beast sprinkled with black pepper.

What? You want to abduct the chef? That’s not going to happen, because there’s a divine beast of unfathomable level, the Hellhound, lying at the entrance.

Oh, that chef also has a robotic assistant that killed a ninth grade supreme being with a single hand and a group of crazy women whose stomachs were conquered.

- Description from Novelupdates

My name is Charlemagne Theron, yes, that’s right, that’s the Theron you think of, and Ajan Lor’themar is my younger brother. Don’t call me Daqiang, or I guarantee you will be beaten to three quarters to death. As a reliable time traveler, I will tell you responsibly, I… “Charlemagne, what are you muttering, today is the day when my younger brother will inherit the position of Ranger General, you don’t want to be used by Cirvanas and Vereesa Hurry up when the arrow hits your nostril.” “…Okay, my dear Alleria, here we go.” When the two walked away holding hands, an imperceptible figure appeared on the spot. “Brother, I wish you a happy Shura field.” I am Charlemagne Theron, I have led the people to participate in the orc war, defeated the ancient gods and the second fool, I also fought against the Burning Legion, and I have made contributions to Azeroth , I bring salt for myself. (PS: Don’t call me Daqiang, unless you want to grow an arrow from a certain key part behind you.) Book Friends Q Group 257692874

- Description from novelbuddy

Layton just wanted a weekend alone in the wilderness. Instead, he woke up in a nightmare.Earth has been inducted into a multiversal system, and survival is no longer guaranteed. Forced into a brutal wave dungeon with no warning, no tutorial, and no gear, Layton accidentally locks himself into the weakest class—Healer.That’s when things start feeling… off.He’s leveling way too fast. His so-called “support” class? Feels anything but weak. And his only ally? A too-intelligent, bloodthirsty predator that might be more than just an animal.Something is wrong with this system. Layton just has to survive long enough to figure out what.

“Block him.”“He's technically still my boss.”“Then block him with dignity.”The call ended again.And then started again.I let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a sob, then finally answered with the enthusiasm of a snail crawling through salt.“Yes, Mr. Walton?”“Have you changed your mind yet?”I collapsed onto the towel and gazed at the sky as though it might consume me entirely if I pleaded sweetly enough.“Do you ever take a break?” I asked, shielding my eyes with one hand.“You're avoiding the question.”“Because it's a dumb question.”He exhaled, the sound sharp and irritated even over phone. “It's not a dumb question. It's a business offer.”“It's a weird offer-one that I already said no to.”There was a brief pause, and I could practically hear him clenching his jaw through the speaker.“You are acting unreasonably.”“ Unreasonable?” I sat up. “I'm not the one drafting fake girlfriend contracts like it's a normal Tuesday.”“Isabella-”“Certainly not, Mr. Walton.” I mimicked his tone perfectly. “I told you I'm not doing it. You need to find someone else to play pretend with.”SYNOPSISIsabella Miller thought saying no to her boss’s fake dating offer was the end of the story.But Adrien Walton doesn’t take no—especially not when he’s convinced she’s a gold digger.Suddenly, her student loans are piling up, her father’s vet clinic is on the brink of eviction and her brother is about to be kicked out of college. Coincidence? She thinks not.Adrien Walton is calm, calculating—and he's just pulled every string to corner Isabella into the perfect position.Now she’s stuck choosing between pride and survival.So she agrees to his offer: be his fake girlfriend.No feelings attached. No drama. Just business.Or so she thought.“Conference Room B. Fifteen minutes,” he said, passing by without a glance.The folder he pushed across the table landed with a thud.I opened it. The contract. All of it.---Enemies to lovers? Check.Slow burn? Hmmnyea.Banter so sharp it might file your nails? Yes.Delicious workplace tension? Of course.Tension that could melt steel?Absolutely.Smut?? Wanna find out?Welcome to corporate romance warfare. There’s no escaping this contract.