The Dark Magician Transmigrates After 66666 Years - Chapter 3: 7th circle Dark Magician (3)

He was the one who would become the greatest monarch in history.

“The spot you had climbed once, there’s nothing you can’t climb again.”

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Qin Lin was electrocuted by playing a nostalgic “Ranch Story” game, and suddenly gained the ability to enter the game. He also found that he could bring the watermelons grown in the game out of reality.

At first, he calculated that a pound of watermelon would sell for 2 yuan. As long as he sells 10,000 catties of watermelon seeds in the game, he can earn 20,000 yuan a day.

Later, he discovered that by upgrading pastures, he could obtain advanced crops beyond the world, raising livestock to obtain advanced livestock breeds that were far beyond the world, and building factories to obtain various formulas that were far beyond the world, and everything was different.

- Description from novelbuddy

In a parallel world, Fang Heng travels through an unlucky ghost who just committed suicide.

Ok? What? All humans in this world are forced to join the game?

shock! Will you be wiped out if you don’t play the game?

Good guy, this unlucky guy who committed suicide turned out to be an ex-professional player?

He actually has the highest-level S-level talent skill – Zombie Clone?

The S-level talent has actually been upgraded! Can my zombie clone hang up?

[During your offline period, your zombie clone group has completed the production of a wooden logging axe*720; you have gained basic production experience value: 1921].

[During your offline period, your zombie clones cut down 27,821 trees; you get wood*128,973, and you get skills-basic cutting experience: 2171921].

When the players were still struggling to survive in the zombie apocalypse, Fang Heng’s zombie clones had already begun to evacuate the entire forest.

Fang Heng: This game is a bit interesting.

- Description from novelbuddy

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.