MTL - Boss Level Face-Slapping Specialist [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 559 The back house wives and concubines are born again (7)

Lin Tianlong, 19 years old, a polytechnic school graduate. With mastery and control over electrical energy, he displays his unparalleled sagely medical skills, accepting the hearts of beauties on the side. Starting by helping his sister-in-law’s small clinic which was on the brink of closing down rise from the dead, he then proceeds to bring prosperity to a private hospital previously in a business slump. Socializing among the officials from the sectors of politics, commerce, law, literature, education, and health in Flame City, he’s drawn into the power struggle between the officials. Businesswomen, doctors, and nurses, attractive policewomen, teachers, pretty loli girls, charming married women, mature beauties – all of them fall to his clutches as he establishes his business empire and a harem of beautiful women.

- Description from Novelupdates

The fat and ugly Nora Smith is the laughingstock of the town when her fiancé breaks off their engagement.He says, “The sight of your gigantic face and thunder thighs disgusts me! Don't ever pester me again!”“What an idiot.” Nora scoffs and turns around, her lips curling up into a smile.Later, when Nora successfully slims down, she returns as an astounding beauty.Her ex-fiancé comes to her bearing flowers and begs, “I was wrong, Nora. I’m willing to do anything as long as you come back to me.” Nora rests her chin in her hands and smiles as she replies, “Real men don’t dwell on the past.” Angered, he says, “You’re just a dimwit saddled with baggage that I dumped, Nora. No one will want you except me!”But following that…A young and popular singer tweets: “Nora Smith is my goddess!”An internationally renowned surgeon asks, “Are you free tonight, Nora?”Even the rich and influential hotshot whom everyone is scared of comes forward and says, ”I can take care of my wife and children myself, thank you very much.”

In a world of shallow-minded, materialistic mortals, what would one from humble beginnings – whose face had been stomped on, spat on, oppressed for the longest while by the arrogant, pampered upper echelons of society – do, when a mysterious application pops up on a brand new phone that was meant to be the birthday gift of an ungrateful girlfriend? What if the application takes the form of a chatroom where its occupants, bearing the names of mythical, fictional beings, start giving out ‘Red Packets’, all the while spouting nonsense?

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”