Nightmare’s Call - Chapter 72 - Resource: Part 3

Chen Muxue, the chef of Internet celebrity private kitchen, has transmigrated into a book, and has become the ultimate villain of the male fairy tale novel, and shot the male protagonist away with an iron pot as soon as he came.

Seeing the dilapidated sect and a group of picked up children waiting to be fed, Chen Muxue decided to eat before talking.

It’s just that I didn’t expect that this meal would last the whole summer…

One day, a man with a celestial spirit came over: “Master, is the sect in charge of food? If it is in charge of food, I am willing to worship inside the sect.”

Chen Muxue: “No problem, go plow the field!”

The next day, the entire cultivation world was shocked! Everyone began to test Qiandingmen one after another. No one knew why the great god of Xianmen, who had always been dressed in white, was willing to farm here…

- Description from novelbuddy

In typical Mary-Sue novel, readers all like the second male lead who only loves the heroine wholeheartedly and is willing to give up everything for the heroine, but the heroine only loves the male lead who once abused her body and heart.

Readers: Why doesn’t the heroine love the second ML, the demon sect leader?!

The demon sect leader: This Devil Venerable also wants to know, why do I like her?

In order to find out why the female lead doesn’t like him, the self-conscious demon sect leader set out to “interview” all the characters in the novel.

———

When a book was dropped into his lap, the demon sect leader discovered the world he lived in was described in it. This book said that after he sacrificed himself for the female lead, the 4th male lead, his silent, loyal subordinate, blackened and attempted to kill her.

The demon sect leader, Wen Renhe: Yin Hanjiang, this Devil Venerable wants to know why you wanted to kill the heroine.

Yin Hanjiang was silent.

Wen Renhe: If you refuse to speak, this Devil Venerable will force you to speak!

Yin Hanjiang: …

Wen Renhe: What are you blushing for?!

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.