DxD: I know…I'm not the real one,just a cheap copy. but...I'd win - Chapter 32: Mittelt glow’up

Ye Qingli is the daughter of an Imperial Businessman’s first wife, wealthy and overbearing. But because of her mother’s early funeral, she suffered utter oppression and abuse under the hands of her stepmother. On the eve of her marriage, she died tragically in the hands of her stepsister and her own fiance!

“dig up a grave , its history will resurface and if my history is dug up then only graves will resurface ” - divine bane zedA boy too smart for his age ,chosen by the ruin as the dawn of the prophecy .destined to fight for eternity but never remembered .carrying the death of million, he walks the path of solitude ,no love ,no glory,only the endless death and regression ahead.This is the story of a boy who as died million times and regressed back each time .story of a boy whose suffering can never be know or remembered .As he is the divine bane and this is his fate .

Player – the legendary fourth natural disaster.

No one can predict what will happen in the special world of “Blood Arena” when a traveler who is forced to bear the fate of the devil leads a group of sand sculpture players.

When Wang Hao Ku Ku Di stretched his finger towards the enemy…

“Long live the charge!”

“Demacia!”

“For the Alliance!”

“For the tribe!”

“Wait! Kill the Long Live Charger first, and beat the Demacia one, and our brothers will decide the outcome!”

“it is good!”

Wang Hao: I’m %$#@%, I’m too hard

 …

After finally coming back from that hellish world, you actually want to open a game company to cover up that world?

Wait, my shell company has become the light of domestic games, what the hell is this?

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17-year-old author who has been in the business for 17 years, and has many excellent finished novels such as “Storm God”, please feel free to collect and subscribe. Fan penguin group number 551430919

- Description from novelbuddy

My name is Yan, and since I was a child, I’ve been able to see some strange things.For example—In elementary school, our new neighbor Aunt Tan had a pair of all-around genius twins, who were like the “precious little geniuses” with halos above their heads. They could recite the English-Chinese dictionary backwards at three, master both Chinese and Western musical instruments by five, and hack into a country’s database by seven…Growing up next to such prodigies, my life was inhumane, tragic, and constantly subjected to comparisons.To escape the comparisons with these “other people’s children,” I specifically applied to a private boarding school for middle school.On my first day, my deskmate was a small, thin girl with bangs, wearing an old uniform, and her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.Three months later, she woke up from a nap with a “rebirth” halo above her head.She moved effortlessly among the cold academic genius, the wolf-like school bully, the fierce boss, and the gentle childhood friend, leaving me, a lonely onlooker, utterly amazed.By university, I thought I had finally escaped this abnormal world.But as soon as I stepped into my dorm room, my footsteps froze.My roommates each had halos like “ancient times to modern,” “post-apocalyptic superhuman,” “will die if not spending money,” and “ghost king revival.”I clutched my little blanket and applied to the counselor for a room change, but to no avail.Over time, I gradually got used to it. “Handover systems,” “management systems,” “book transmigration,” “infinite worlds,” “three-and-a-half-year-olds,” “interstellar live streams,” “red envelope groups”…The types of halos kept increasing, and I was able to calmly ignore all of it, focusing on my own life.Every morning, I skillfully helped my “ancient to modern” roommate, who was being blacklisted online, dodge campus paparazzi and secure seats for class.At noon, I assisted my tycoon roommate in distributing today’s haul of luxury skincare and designer bags, tasting the city’s top private chef’s custom lunchbox, and exclaiming with emotion, “Darling, can I really accept these?”In the evening, I enjoyed the flowers and plants cultivated by my superhuman roommate on the balcony, tasting a mutated cherry tomato and commenting, “I feel refreshed and purified.”Late at night, when my ghost king roommate quietly climbed back through the window, I peeked out to ask, “You’re back a bit late today, didn’t bring anything back, did you?”My name is Yan, and I am not the protagonist of this world.