The Runesmith - Chapter 393: Magic Detonation.

My name is Mikami Yuu, and I am a first-year student at the Soul Society, Shino Academy of Spiritual Art.

I have a friend who will be a little famous in the soul world in the future. His name is Aizen? Jiayishu?br />Different from this friend who has great ambitions and lofty ideals, my goal is very simple. Through hard work and diligence, I will graduate Later, he became the chairman of the thirteenth team of Goutei, and has since become a warrior class, living a life of lying down and sucking blood.

Until one day, a thing called “Cultivation Binding System” suddenly appeared.

Whenever Aizen improves his strength, my strength will be automatically synchronized to the same level as Aizen.

Then, what to do in the future is very clear.

“? Jiayi? You have to work hard. As long as you work hard enough, I can live the life I want!”

- Description from novelbuddy

Genius, antisocial, solitary, intractable , maniacal.

At the turn of every era, it is he who raises the flag of the rebel cross.

Winners take it all, losers take the fall.

He who brings order to a chaotic world, assembles talents and masterminds.

He who hides among the crowd, yet stands on the top of the world.

— The one and only, him.

- Description from Novelupdates

As a child with an unattainable dream, I yearned to become a Hero, but I veered off the right path. Looking back, my aspiration to save others was nothing more than a foolish dream. I now realize the magnitude of my sins and the impossibility of atoning for them.

Tang Qiu was a substitute bride–forced to take her half-sister’s place and marry the young master of the Jiang family, a deformed cripple with less than 6 months left to live.

“Who would have thought that even a sickly whelp like Jiang Shaocheng would find himself a bride?”

“I hear that he’s practically on his deathbed and he’s only marrying the Fengs’ daughter to improve his lifespan.”

Tang Qiu ignored the whispers around her and focused on her husband-to-be, who coughed violently in his wheelchair. At the altar, after they had said their vows, she lifted her veil and knelt in front of Jiang Shaocheng, pressing a hesitant kiss to his lips.

The marriage contract was signed. No matter his physical deformities, he was now her husband.

She wasn’t afraid of the scars that marked his face, nor was she repulsed by him being confined to a wheelchair. Every morning, she made him breakfast, attended to his needs, and thought of little else beyond her duties as a wife.

“Young Master Jiang is a cripple who can’t get it up,” her best friend argued. “When he dies, you’ll still be untouched. You should set your sights higher.”

“A sickly invalid like Jiang Shaocheng can’t give you happiness,” her ex-boyfriend insisted. “I’ll wait for you.”

But Young Master Jiang only scoffed. “I have plenty of time left to be with her.”

Later in their marriage, Jiang Shaocheng wanted to enjoy his little wife in all ways–the press of her lips against his, the brush of skin on skin; the way a husband and wife were supposed to. But Tang Qiu refused him, blushing. “No, we can’t. The doctor says you can’t exert yourself.”

Jiang Shaocheng’s desire was surging through him, a heat in his core that demanded to be satiated. He cursed, I should have gotten rid of that doctor and the wheelchair long ago.

But he yearned to make love to his little wife, and so he revealed his true identity. In the blink of an eye, the deformed cripple transformed into a powerful businessman–tall, dark, and handsome. He quieted Tang Qiu’s protests, his body positioned over hers, his arms caging her as she lay on the bed. His voice was low when he asked, “What about now?”