The General's Wife Wants to Leave - Chapter 243: A fragile little girl

Somebody once told a joke.A man ran in place all his life. He worked a job he didn't love for people he couldn't stand. But at the end of the day, the number in his bank account went up.That man got a second chance at life. He woke up in another world, full of adventures and romances and monsters and gods. And floating above his head he saw the number “1”. So what did he say?“Gosh I better make the number go up.”Not today. Not for this old soul. Reborn as a beast of battle meant to live a short life and die screaming, Garek refuses. He puts the madness of skills and levels behind him and sets out to found a little farmstead. He grows crops. Maybe someday he'll get a pig, and have bacon.It's a shame the world won't let him be. It's a shame that the warmongers and level-grinders hate nothing more than a soul at peace.He put down his sword for a plowshare, but when trouble comes calling, he'll pick it up again.

Luo Fei does not fear being rivals in love with Xi Yanqing; what he fears is that they have transmigrated to ancient times and become betrothed to each other!

Father Luo: Eh?! Not getting married? How about I break your legs if you don’t get married?!

Luo Fei: Dad, ahh, Dad! Aiyo, stop beating me now! I’ll just go get married okay?

Xi Yanqing: You know that you can’t escape and now you’ll have to pay for it. Did you leave without bringing your IQ?

Luo Fei: You with the surname Xi doesn’t have to sleep on the bed on the wedding night!

Xi Yanqing: Oh.

Luo Fei Who on His Wedding Night was Pressed to the Trunk of a Peach Tree at the Entrance: …f**k you surnamed Xi! This isn’t what I meant!!!

- Description from Novelupdates

Dante was an ageless warlock who had been going from one battle to another for hundreds of years.Following a chaotic encounter with an evil god, Dante unintentionally activates a contract with a demon, thrusting him into the modern world.Resolved to live a peaceful life, his intentions are halted when he finds himself in the middle of a conflict among rival mafia factions—dabbling with the ominous demonic magic that he knows best.

My name is Charlemagne Theron, yes, that’s right, that’s the Theron you think of, and Ajan Lor’themar is my younger brother.

Don’t call me Daqiang, or I guarantee you will be beaten to three quarters to death. As a reliable time traveler, I will tell you responsibly, I…

“Charlemagne, what are you muttering, today is the day when my younger brother will inherit the position of Ranger General, you don’t want to be used by Cirvanas and Vereesa Hurry up when the arrow hits your nostril.”

“…Okay, my dear Alleria, here we go.”

When the two walked away holding hands, an imperceptible figure appeared on the spot.

“Brother, I wish you a happy Shura field.”

I am Charlemagne Theron, I have led the people to participate in the orc war, defeated the ancient gods and the second fool, I also fought against the Burning Legion, and I have made contributions to Azeroth , I bring salt for myself.

(PS: Don’t call me Daqiang, unless you want to grow an arrow from a certain key part behind you.)