MTL - I Had a Home In 1982 - Chapter 389 388. The noodle machine is too horizontal (please ask for a monthly pass, bye

“You are mine, and I am yours…”

The world cannot be saved by the victory of a single man. This book begins at the point where the climax should occur; the battle between a Demon Queen who is a little strange and a Hero who is a little curious.

However, not only do these two give up the battle, instead, they join hands to directly challenge the complicated social structure which dictates that humans and demons must forever be in conflict.

This is too reckless right? How can this be done? Undoubtedly, you are thinking that.

Come, please turn the page. You are about to read a story that has never been told before; the story of the Hero… and the Demon Queen.

After the nth time of failing a marriage meeting, Xiang Han got himself a job: good treatment, high salary, free world traveling with food provided, house provided and even a ‘lover provided’?!

At first, he thought, apart from having to travel into the body of a scum cannon fodder, a scheming fake white lotus, everything else was okay. It was only later he realized that saving the target was also a problem. His imagination was neverending, even eating a cup of ramen was seen as a way to rouse his ( target’s) interest!

Xiang Han: This target is a no-go.

Certain Target: Very good, you’ve already managed to rouse my interest.

Xiang Han: Go outside and make a left turn to the optometrist, go get your eyes healed! Additionally, this “lover provided” isn’t necessary.

A Certain Target: This is certainly necessary!

- Description from novelupdates

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.