Holy Roman Empire - Chapter 951 - 214: Kicking Someone When They’re Down

As a Beta, Ning An’s goal in life was to work hard, make money and get rich. However, his own dear father changed his aspiration and made him become a military academy student. Initially, he wanted to spend his days lazing about. What? The first place in the year gets a generous scholarship? Then staying up to study and train my body is nothing at all! The first place scholarship is definitely mine!

The A in the opposite dorm: So you’re actually an O.

Ning An: Ah?

The A in the opposite dorm: I know. You’re risking it all to prove that an O is not inferior to an A.

Ning An: You know my ass. Laozi is a B.

The A in the opposite dorm: You need to correctly recognise your own gender ah.

Ning An: …. Teacher. Report. I’m afraid this person is stupid.

note: Pretending to be a B’ is 装B (Zhuang B). 装B also means to boast or show off

- Description from Novelupdates

Author, God or Plaything?Zar had just finished writing the prologue of his magnum opus—The Nexus Verse—a boundless verse of multiverses, godlike beings, and an elite academy meant to shape the strongest entities in existence. Years of meticulous world-building, complex power systems, and lore so deep it could drown a god… and yet, it was all just fiction.Until it wasn’t.On the night of his 22nd birthday, reality itself fractured. In an instant, he was torn from his world—only to awaken within the Nexus Verse as one of its rulers.There was just one problem.He had only written the prologue.Everything beyond that? Scattered notes. Unfinished ideas. Incomplete power systems. The vast, living, breathing multiverse around him was full of gaps he never filled. The beings he once considered mere characters now had wills of their own, and some of them were already far beyond his control.To make matters worse, the Nexus Academy—his ultimate creation, the battleground where gods and devils alike trained to surpass reality—had just started its entrance exam. And somehow, he was now part of it.Armed with only a mysterious system, fragmented knowledge of his own lore, and the terrifying realization that he may have made this world far too overpowered, Zar has only one goal:Survive.Because in a world where destroying a multiverse is just a Tuesday challenge, where ancient beings lurk in the void waiting for a single mistake, and where the strongest warriors wield power beyond his comprehension...Being the author doesn’t mean he’s the one in control.After all, if this verse was created… what destroyed the others?*****For fans of: Overpowered protagonists, cosmic-level world-building, reality-defying battles, eldritch horrors, and gods who fear greater forces.Additional tags#Gods #Devil #Ancient beings #Creators #Monarchs #OverpoweredBeings

Jian Huan found herself transported into a xianxia novel as the fiancee of the main antagonist.Feeling her empty wallet, she recalled the pitiful fate of the original owner of the body who stubbornly refused to annul the marriage. Without hesitation, she took the marriage contract and went to the antagonist for a friendly negotiation.At this moment, Shen Jizhi, the future scourge of the cultivation world, was still a righteous disciple. He silently looked at the marriage contract with a cold expression, asking, “How can I get you to annul this marriage?”“One hundred thousand spirit stones,” Jian Huan held up ten fingers, “as long as you pay one hundred thousand spirit stones, our marriage will be void.”Shen Jizhi fell into silence for a moment. “Is there nothing else you want me to do?”Jian Huan shook her head. “None.”Shen Jizhi asked sternly, “You will only accept this condition?”Without hesitation, Jian Huan replied, “Yes.”Shen Jizhi’s tone turned harsh. “Then there’s no annulment.”Jian Huan was confused. “?”Shen Jizhi looked at her and said, “I won’t annul the marriage. We can get married whenever you want.”He bid farewell. “I have other matters to attend to. Goodbye.”Jian Huan exclaimed, “???”

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.