MTL - Shock! Can You Become a God Even By Playing Games? - Chapter 72 good friend

This was a fragmented and disorganized world, this was a place that had been forgotten.

That day, was the most frustrating time for Ning Cheng, when on that day, he was abruptly brought here.

Because this world had Ning Cheng, who would imprint his name in the vast heavens, it would finally shine in the endless universe!

- Description from Novelupdates

When Shen Zhifan awoke, he had become the nation’s male god.

The type of male god that everyone in the world, crying and shouting, wants to marry.

However, because the General (who lives next door) has a fiancee who fell in love with Shen Zhifan, the General absolutely hates him.

Shen Zhifan, who has always thought of the General as his male god, was crushed.

*My Male God has become my rival in love. Every day his ice-cube face looks like he desperately wants to hack me to death.*

*Esteemed General, I don’t even have a sliver of affection for your fiancee. I’ve long given up any hope of love – right now, I just want to get rich.*

Luckily, the General’s cat really likes him, and always wants to……climb into his bed.

Ice-cube face, damn mensao, cat General gong x very good-looking shou

The gong’s cat form is a Blue Ragdoll Cat, his cat form is so devastatingly gorgeous that if you don’t buy him you’re not human.

Sweetness is justice. Both sides are secretly in love. Senselessly sweet. Logic is dead, please don’t be too confused.

- Description from Novelupdates

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”

The world I transmigrated into was a dark fantasy game universe, devoid of hope or dreams.Doesn’t feel like it at all, though.