Ghost Marriage, the Abandoned Wife Has Three Treasures - Chapter 99.1 - Feels at home (Part 1)

In the end of the era, the ghost wizard was killed in a car accident, the soul crossed, and he found himself in Japan, and he was attached to a Japanese.

I was thinking about taking a name in Japan, and I picked up a newspaper and glanced at it –

Kudo Shinichi, Sherlock Holmes of Japan’s Heisei, the savior of the police? In the trough, how does Laozi wear into the world of the second yuan? Well, all in all, this is a story of a wizard playing a passerby in the Conan world…

- Description from MTLNovel

When gods gather, lightning will strike and the earth will move. Immortals! Which of the numerous way to immortality should one follow? Immortals are hard to seek, but why should immortals hide? Heaven has no mercy, but humans have emotions, and these emotions hinder the road to longevity!

It always starts with an accident.That’s how all these stories go. One moment, you’re minding your own business, and the next, you wake up in someone else’s body. For Caspian, his accident started earlier than he even knew.Maybe it began when his sister got him into romance novels? Or when he started really sympathizing with the villains at the ends of books? He’d never know. It was too late to worry about it now.For now, he had to find a way to fix this nightmare, or rehabilitate his image, all while trying to free himself from the fate set out for him. All because of the damn “gods” who he'd cut a deal with.These were the only two options he had available, and he wasn’t sure he could succeed at either. The man he had taken over for had been…a true piece of work. And the secret villain of the book he had been reading before he passed.It had been a harem novel. A reverse harem novel.He was trapped in a huge ass CASTLE with a bunch of men who hated him because he was taking affection and time away from their shared wife. All Cass wanted to do was be a good person, not mess around with this poor woman and her far too handsome husbands.But why would no one leave him alone? Was he too suspicious? And why, after going out of his way to avoid them like they had asked, did they keep pestering him?And where did the heroine go?How was he going to manage three, handsome men without the heroine?

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.