Star Wars: Daimon's Story - Chapter 1: The Voice (Prologue)

Zhong Yansheng lived for eighteen years. After accidentally falling into the water, he dreamed and found that he was living in a book. In the book, he was a fake young master who was mistakenly adopted by the Marquis. After the real young master came back, he {real} was not taken seriously by the family and was driven to a separate courtyard in the suburbs of Beijing. His parents only doted on him {fake}, and they turned the real young master into a black hearted man, and finally his family was ruined. After waking up, Zhong Yansheng learned the news that Master Zhen returned to the house three days ago, but the whole family only revolved around him {fake} who was sick.

“Take me in, I’ll do anything you want me to!”

In her previous life, Lu Man is sent to prison after being framed by her step-sister and an a**hole. After being released from prison, the only thing that greets her is her mother’s tombstone. Seeing the as*hole and bit*h getting happily along together like one big family with her birth father and step-mother, she sets out to die together with the as*hole and her step-sister in fiery flames.

The moment she opens her eyes again, she finds herself back on the very day she was framed. Resolutely jumping out the window and climbing next door, she seeks refuge from the man occupying the room there. But who would have guessed that the man is the brilliant hunk she has always admired from afar in her past life?

She vows to rub her eyes clean and be more discerning of people. She wants to make everyone who owed her in the past to pay her back!

“Young Master Han, can you let me hug your other arm too?”
“Actually, I have one more, do you want it?”
“…”

“It’s finally here,” said the man with the sword in an echoing whisper.

“The Tower of Choice, the last 100 floors!” the band of five exclaimed in unison.

Angelica came down from the altar with a dull look, seemingly annoying.

Then we looked around.

“I tell you once again, but you’ve had a lot of trouble in the meantime. I couldn’t have climbed to the 100th floor alone without you.”

Thud!

One by one, they fall to the floor.

Angelica’s dagger pierced my neck, and I felt a darkening in front of my eyes with a tumultuous rage. My awareness faded, from my senses, from everything else. After that, everything was eroded by profound darkness.

Vincent van Gogh, the painter who refused to be an accessory Of power and painted with his soul at the tip of a brush, was not understood by anyone and had to die like a madman, and he woke up in 21st century Korea.

Like a wheat field melted with gold, like a sunflower that swallowed the sun, a dazzling painter once again takes the brush.