MTL - To Four Thousand Years Later - v4 Chapter 39 blood of the moon

Yu Xiaotong’s new novel “Fate's Little Feral Consort”. She was a world-famous miracle doctor in the 21st century. If The King of Hell wanted a person to die at mid-day, she would only let that person die in the evening. After going back in time, her soul was now in the body of a cowardly and incompetent lady of Eternal Peace Marquis’s Residence. On her wedding day, she was sent to the bandits by her fiance. Immediately, she gave the useless man a letter of divorce.

Get lost! Vicious stepmother, hypocritical stepsister, cruel father; all of them wanting her life. She has her own Spirit Beast, she could refine elixir pills; she could even effortlessly master new skills. But why did the handsome and domineering ninth imperial uncle entangle her when she was dealing with those hateful scum? She looked back and sneered, “is our relationship that good?”. The man narrowed his eyes and looked as fierce as a beast, “I’ve already held you and kissed you. Do we have to be in bed together? ”

He died on the wedding of the girl he had a crush on, after a long and successful career. After convincing Yama to send him back to the world, he decides to fix the areas in which his life went wrong. Realizing the lack of love and romance in his past life, he sets out to conquer the hearts of various women.

In her third year living in this steampunk world, Ciel gained the ability to simulate both the past and the future.These simulations turned into a game where she could act without restraint, and after countless trials, real life became a replica she could navigate as though speedrunning it.Churches, potions, mutations, the Old Gods, witches, sealed artifacts… none of these have anything to do with Ciel. She’s just an ordinary girl who wishes for a peaceful life.She just happens to be particularly skilled at snuffing out danger before it even begins.

Rakna was not normal. No, unmistakably not.

Whether it was his appearance, his personality, his abilities, his identity, nothing about him had ever been banal. Was it his choice?

No. He was merely but a tormented soul doing its utmost to live the life it had learned to never enjoy.

Would being picked by a glorified universal abductor calling itself a system bring something out of him?

Would he finally learn to breathe in the pool of blood that suffocated him? The Harvester does not sow, he only collects.

All he has ever known to feel was loss and the only thing he can do is take.

He will devour their hearts and drink their blood if it is what it takes.