Purgatory Artist - Chapter 137: Dragons

I complained that the play script in this other world was terrible. But then they told me, ‘If you don’t like it, write it yourself.'” I got so mad that I plagiarized the lives of famous people and made them into scripts. ⌠Your Highness, I still have twelve battleships.⌡ ⌠The die is cast.⌡ ……But it ended up being way more popular than I expected. Somebody, help me!!!

Countless planets, endless cultivation.

The struggle for the Dao has persisted for thousands of years.

Miao Xiaojing, a junior disciple of the Evolutionary Immortality Sect, suffered the destruction of his sect, and was thrown into the vast river of fate.

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The worst and strongest villain.I became the narrow-eyed character Arsene Adel.“Revenge.”It sounded good.At least to the original owner of the body.But from my point of view, the goal is not revenge, but survival.I didn’t have the confidence to survive among humans, soㅡI went to the Demon Realm.Where I was headed,A school for demons that is said to be attended by the children of prestigious families in the demon world,……It was a school that terrorized the human world.

After a night of indulgence, An Ge became pregnant with the powerful and influential Mr. Huo's child.During the pregnancy, the powerful man frequently drew her blood.In order to save her life and protect the child in her womb, she shocked everyone by saying, “Mr. Huo, I'm carrying your child!”The man sneered, “Are you trying to blackmail me or do you wish to die? If so, I'll grant your wish!”Disheartened, she faked her death and fled with the child.Later, that man, who was always cold and harsh to her, knelt before her grave for three days and nights.Later still, word somehow got out that she faked her death, and he became enraged, locking down the globe in a frenzy to find her.Finally, one day, he cornered her at a wedding, furiously roaring, “You can't marry him, I'm the real father of the child!”An Ge squinted and smiled slightly, “Sorry, who are you?”In the time that followed, he humbled himself into the dust, every night kneeling in front of her bed, begging, “Miss An, please marry me.”