The Daily Life of the Demon King - Chapter 129: ": The Tea Invitation Plan"

Shen Yinning was originally the Crown Prince Lu Ying's childhood sweetheart and fiancée, but due to her father and brother's rebellion, she was exiled to Gan State and married to a minor local official as the daughter of a criminal. Meanwhile, Lu Ying gloriously married her cousin Shen Yunxi as his Crown Princess Consort.Three years later, Shen Yinning returned to the Capital with her husband. Everyone praised the Crown Prince and Princess for their mutual respect and harmony, and Shen Yunxi often flaunted in front of her how loving she and the Crown Prince were. However, only Shen Yinning knew that the seemingly restrained and honorable Lu Ying came to her chamber every night, completely disregarding the fact that she was now someone else's wife, secretly claiming her and keeping her as his Forbidden Fruit...

Why is it “Hero” that “Savior” that? Why is it always the same happy ending? “Happy” “Good” “Perfect” endings? You know what? SCREW IT. I will give you all the worst possible ending possible? Why? Because I’m an asshole!

The world has changed into something like a game.

It resembles a survival virtual reality game where people were attacked by zombies and monsters.

And I was the last user of that game.

The year was 2026, and the world wasn't what it used to be. Ever since the Abyss Gates cracked open three years ago, spilling monsters and dungeons across the planet, life had turned into a chaotic mess. Cities were half-ruined, half-rebuilt, and people clung to whatever normalcy they could find. Hunters—those brave or crazy enough to fight the monsters—became the new heroes. Everyone else? Well, they just tried to survive.Fin wasn't a Hunter. He wasn't a hero either.He was just… Fin. A lanky 19-year-old with messy brown hair, a chipped front tooth from a dumb skateboard accident, and a power that everyone called useless. Absorption. Sounds cool, right? Like he could suck up energy or steal someone's strength. Nope. All it did was let him “feel” things he touched a little more than normal. He could tell you the exact texture of a brick wall or how warm a coffee mug was—big whoop. No fireballs, no super strength, no flashy moves. Just a glorified touchy-feely trick.“Fin, you gonna eat that sandwich or just stare at it like it's gonna confess its life story?” Meg's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.He blinked and looked across the rickety table at his best friend. Meg was short, loud, and had a wild mop of dyed purple hair that she swore made her look “intimidating.” It didn't.