VRMMORPG: Dragomancer Reborn - Chapter 162 An Excited Armorer

[The 3000th issue of mysterious arrival is about to open! 】

【This is your only chance to redeem yourself! 】

In the global crisis, Wang Teng opens up his unique talent!

SSS-level talent – unequal exchange!

We are not zero yuan purchase!

But we are not equal exchange!

【The exchange is successful! You exchange half a box of instant noodles for endless extraction of SSS-level talents! 】

【The exchange is successful! You exchange a bottle of Sad Crisp Breeze for Douzhuanxingxiao! 】

…

Since then, Wang Teng has opened a new mode of exchange.

- Description from novelbuddy

Transmigrated into a flesh ball, my father swung a sword to chop me, why does this storyline seem so familiar?Have I become Nezha?A great cultivator from the Earth's end-times era transmigrates into Nezha. Watch as the young man navigates the prehistoric world, cutting through illusions, slaying dragon sons, subduing the Dragon Palace, and breaking heaven's barriers!

People were jealous of her. An orphan married into a wealthy family and had a handsome, gentle, and wealthy husband.Little did they know, they slept in the same bed but had different dreams, and seldom communicated.People think his husband is perfect, but only she knows that he calls out other women's names in his dreams.Even though she gave birth to twins, she didn't touch him.So she filed for divorce.Finding his wife abandoning her children and property just to be separated from him, he suddenly felt anxious.When he returned home, he found only the hungry children waiting to be fed, and the bed was also so cold. A luxurious villa without a wife is just a pile of steel and concrete. He suddenly realized that he had already fallen in love with her, but she had become his unattainable heiress.She said, “Sir, you have to queue up to chase me. You'd better go back and take care of your children.”He held his two children and smiled, “The children are too young to live without their mother. Let's give them back to you.”When the servant brought the children's luggage into the house, he emerged from a huge cardboard box and said, “I am the children's doll, and you can also think of me as an intelligent robot - with a complimentary warm bed service.”“..”

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.