D.E.M.O.N.S: Getting Summoned Weekly isn't so Bad - Chapter 1877 Flower Connection

Veyne came from the life of sewer rats.The world saw him as a failure. He called it belief. Others called it stupidity. Either way, it was the only thing he had left.Even at rock bottom, Veyne never stopped believing in himself.Betrayed by his lover and brother, treated as a burden, and forced to slave endlessly in the game to chase his dream—he endured it all.Though late, his obsession was finally rewarded with an opportunity. But the sewer rat in him was too weak to hold onto it. He had fought the world and lost.Actions have consequences. And when he failed in the game, those consequences caught up to him, leading to his death.But the universe wasn’t done with him yet.Given a second chance, he returned to a time when the game had already been out for two years. This time, he rushed to obtain the Template Wilder class—the very class that led to his downfall.One of the game’s rarest hidden classes, the Wilder class, allowed him to switch into different forms based on the monster templates he possessed. An overpowered ability—but it came with a fatal catch.A hidden template forced him into the form of an ancient baby creature, one so cursed that players, monsters, and even NPCs would hunt him down. If he died in that form, his character would be permanently deleted.In his past life, he underestimated the class’s dangers. And the world tore him apart for it.This time, it wouldn’t be just hollow belief.This time, he’s not here to survive—he’s here to dominate.No emotional ties.No second chances.The entire game is his enemy, and he will crush anyone who stands in his way.He failed once. He suffered. He died. He was erased.Not this time.This is the beginning of his legend. The era of Veyne Draven.

When the bird race wanted to flatter the king of the wolf race, he was thrown out directly by his parents. After that, he had been tossed like a toy by others from one place to another, numerous times. Finally, he ended up in front of the black wolf.

There was a rumor saying that the black wolf was the most ferocious existence in the wolf palace. And the black wolf’s favorite food was raw chicken!

He always excitedly gnawed the chicken, there was a possibility that blood could splatter everywhere!

Qiao Xi: I feel like I’m going to die.

And when Qiao Xi fell in front of the black wolf—

The black wolf had sharp fangs, fierce eyes, and a terrifying aura. The black wolf opened his mouth and approached Qiao Xi…

“Auwoo! Auwoo! Auwoo!”

Qiao Xi was frightened out of his wits and immediately fell onto the ground. He unmanageably changed into a human form. His body was shivering uncontrollably, thinking to himself that he was going to die.

However, just when the black wolf saw Qiao Xi’s human form, he unexpectedly turned silent.

After standing still for a while, he suddenly lifted his paw and touched Qiao Xi’s pretty little face, he stated calmly: “From today onward, you’re my little brother.”

Qiao Xi, whose eyes were filled with tears: “…?”
…

Later, the black wolf ascended the throne in the wolf race.

Someone saw the black wolf carrying a chicken in his arm, and couldn’t help but say with a smile, His Majesty, the Wolf King surprisingly carried a ration with him, which was really interesting.

Suddenly, the Wolf King’s face darkened. He said calmly without any smile on his face: “This is my wife.”

He also ate this small one every day, but not as a ration, because this was his little treasure.

- Description from Novelupdates

This is a world where civilization and savagery, rudeness and grace coexist,

The flag of the skeleton is flying,

The smell of gunpowder lingers,

Here are coins and muskets!

Here are women and rum!

Sail!

Towards freedom!

PS: This article is inspired by the Pirates of the Caribbean, no empire hegemony, and aims to enjoy the wonderful adventure brought by the romantic ocean!

- Description from novelbuddy

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.