I Don’t Want the Obsession of a Twisted Archduke - Chapter 8: I Hate Him (1)

One day, I was given the mysterious power of Hwanmong.

Chen Tong is punished by a Demon God to go to each world to be various kinds of spirits, fortunately regardless of what to cross, he is good at using demon spirit magic, healing, prophecy, psychic, all kinds of strong flaunting off isn’t good.

Note: There's no magic in this novel. This was previously in the Realistic Fiction genre but it's not included in the choices. So I picked the closest one to it.

Onoda Ruki is just your ordinary high school student. He strived for being the Classmate A who's unimportant to the story.

Despite being the Classmate A. Onoda has a secret desire which he always had ever since young and that was to steal each and every girl from their guy.

Join him as he entered his high school days as he conquer and steal every girl he sets his eyes on. And along the way, the growth in his character and those around him.

*I do not own the cover photo. I will take it out if requested.

*DISCLAIMER

This is a work of fiction.

All names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious way. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Moreover, the ages of the characters appearing in this fiction are 18 and above.

Karl awoke to find himself shockingly reduced to a crippled Evil God confined within a bottle.The Fischer family had inadvertently become his favored members, sharing a fate connected by blood throughout the generations.They established a secret clan, infiltrated the state, manipulated wars, ascended the God Pantheon stairway, and fought for the honor and future of the family.They were assassins lurking in the shadows, beloved scholars, esteemed priests, powerful dukes, and legends in heroic epics.From budding to robust growth, steampunk evolved; the Spirit Realm descended through dreams; witches and ancient gods stepped forth, and people listened to the lost whispers at their ears.They were both the creators and the enders of stories.Generation after generation, in a continuous succession, they marched forward.“Step over my corpse and go on,” he said.