Nameless King - Chapter 1075 The Throne Room

Once, because of a pair of purple eyes he was scorned. He is a wangye known across the land, cold and bloodthirsty, looking disdainfully upon the world.

Shu Yu has passed through the book, and has become a poor cannon fodder who was implicated by the dead female supporting role and only appeared twice and was finally exiled for thousands of miles.

After finding that he could not change the result, Shu Yu decided to eat, drink, lie down and wait.

Who knew that the exile had not yet come, but she was suddenly told that she was not the daughter of the Shu family.

Her biological parents were peasant households who lived so hard to make ends meet that their house was leaking.

And the Shu family decided to obliterate her in order to hide her blemish.

Shu Yu: Come on, I can’t kill you.

Returning to his biological parents, Shu Yu finally sighed as he looked at the plate of pickles and a bowl of porridge on the table and placed in front of him, as well as his parents’ nervous and bewildered expressions.

You can’t lie flat, or you’ll starve to death.

- Description from novelbuddy

Wonder Woman: Why are you Superman’s younger brother? Eric replied: On the first day of travel, I, who was also a baby, climbed into Superman’s baby capsule, pushed him out, occupied the nest by myself, and became a “son of Krypton”.

Superman: Why don’t you save the plane? Eric replied: I will not lift things by stepping on the air.

Batman: Why didn’t kryptonite work for you this time? Eric replied: I originally wanted to get along with you as a Kryptonian, but in exchange it was alienation.

Okay, I’m not pretending anymore, I’ll showdown, I’m a native of the motherland. …… This is a story about a man who was mistaken for a Kryptonian with a template of the motherland, but is actually a sinister and black guy who is doing things in the world of superheroes.

- Description from novelbuddy

My name is Yan, and since I was a child, I’ve been able to see some strange things.For example—In elementary school, our new neighbor Aunt Tan had a pair of all-around genius twins, who were like the “precious little geniuses” with halos above their heads. They could recite the English-Chinese dictionary backwards at three, master both Chinese and Western musical instruments by five, and hack into a country’s database by seven…Growing up next to such prodigies, my life was inhumane, tragic, and constantly subjected to comparisons.To escape the comparisons with these “other people’s children,” I specifically applied to a private boarding school for middle school.On my first day, my deskmate was a small, thin girl with bangs, wearing an old uniform, and her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.Three months later, she woke up from a nap with a “rebirth” halo above her head.She moved effortlessly among the cold academic genius, the wolf-like school bully, the fierce boss, and the gentle childhood friend, leaving me, a lonely onlooker, utterly amazed.By university, I thought I had finally escaped this abnormal world.But as soon as I stepped into my dorm room, my footsteps froze.My roommates each had halos like “ancient times to modern,” “post-apocalyptic superhuman,” “will die if not spending money,” and “ghost king revival.”I clutched my little blanket and applied to the counselor for a room change, but to no avail.Over time, I gradually got used to it. “Handover systems,” “management systems,” “book transmigration,” “infinite worlds,” “three-and-a-half-year-olds,” “interstellar live streams,” “red envelope groups”…The types of halos kept increasing, and I was able to calmly ignore all of it, focusing on my own life.Every morning, I skillfully helped my “ancient to modern” roommate, who was being blacklisted online, dodge campus paparazzi and secure seats for class.At noon, I assisted my tycoon roommate in distributing today’s haul of luxury skincare and designer bags, tasting the city’s top private chef’s custom lunchbox, and exclaiming with emotion, “Darling, can I really accept these?”In the evening, I enjoyed the flowers and plants cultivated by my superhuman roommate on the balcony, tasting a mutated cherry tomato and commenting, “I feel refreshed and purified.”Late at night, when my ghost king roommate quietly climbed back through the window, I peeked out to ask, “You’re back a bit late today, didn’t bring anything back, did you?”My name is Yan, and I am not the protagonist of this world.