Re-Birth Of A Genius. Creator/Destroyer - Chapter 10

What is a story without a reader?Nothing.Stories are for the readers to define.What about a story with four readers?It is a lot for the story, but for the author the story is far from being satisfactory.So when the author closes the story beloved to only four readers.How do they deal with it?How do they deal with the end?What happens when the author swallows the key to the story’s life.Especially when it simply became beyond human terms.

Monster Fusion: Rise of the Vice Sect LeaderRay Darkheart was cursed forever unable to cultivate, even after reincarnation. No technique, no bloodline, no divine intervention could change his fate. His body rejected all forms of cultivation, leaving him powerless in a world where strength ruled.But fate was not so absolute.One day, he awakened the Monster Fusion System a power unlike any other. By fusing two monsters of the same rank, he could create something far stronger, evolving them beyond their natural limits. Each fusion carried forward enhanced traits, bloodlines, and abilities, forming creatures that defied logic itself.Yet power came at a price.To advance, to unlock the system’s hidden functions, he needed spiritual stones countless, unending spiritual stones. Every ability, every upgrade, every path forward demanded a fortune. Alchemy, formations, talismans, swordsmanship nothing was beyond his reach, as long as he could afford it.Thus, Ray chose the only path left to him.If the world would not grant him strength, he would take it for himself. As the Vice Sect Leader, he would amass wealth, plunder resources, and rob cultivators blind not for greed, but for survival.A powerless man? No.A schemer, a thief, a legend in the making Ray Darkheart would rise.[sect building] [business empire] [disciple cultivation] [comedy] [alchemist] [formation master] [sword dao] [system] [monster fusion] [resource management] [plundering] [strategic growth] [power progression] [cultivation world]

Tang Qiu was a substitute bride–forced to take her half-sister’s place and marry the young master of the Jiang family, a deformed cripple with less than 6 months left to live.

“Who would have thought that even a sickly whelp like Jiang Shaocheng would find himself a bride?”

“I hear that he’s practically on his deathbed and he’s only marrying the Fengs’ daughter to improve his lifespan.”

Tang Qiu ignored the whispers around her and focused on her husband-to-be, who coughed violently in his wheelchair. At the altar, after they had said their vows, she lifted her veil and knelt in front of Jiang Shaocheng, pressing a hesitant kiss to his lips.

The marriage contract was signed. No matter his physical deformities, he was now her husband.

She wasn’t afraid of the scars that marked his face, nor was she repulsed by him being confined to a wheelchair. Every morning, she made him breakfast, attended to his needs, and thought of little else beyond her duties as a wife.

“Young Master Jiang is a cripple who can’t get it up,” her best friend argued. “When he dies, you’ll still be untouched. You should set your sights higher.”

“A sickly invalid like Jiang Shaocheng can’t give you happiness,” her ex-boyfriend insisted. “I’ll wait for you.”

But Young Master Jiang only scoffed. “I have plenty of time left to be with her.”

Later in their marriage, Jiang Shaocheng wanted to enjoy his little wife in all ways–the press of her lips against his, the brush of skin on skin; the way a husband and wife were supposed to. But Tang Qiu refused him, blushing. “No, we can’t. The doctor says you can’t exert yourself.”

Jiang Shaocheng’s desire was surging through him, a heat in his core that demanded to be satiated. He cursed, I should have gotten rid of that doctor and the wheelchair long ago.

But he yearned to make love to his little wife, and so he revealed his true identity. In the blink of an eye, the deformed cripple transformed into a powerful businessman–tall, dark, and handsome. He quieted Tang Qiu’s protests, his body positioned over hers, his arms caging her as she lay on the bed. His voice was low when he asked, “What about now?”

“Aiyo, this time someone’s going to die. This is going to be a big deal.”

She had transmigrated, and her architectural style had transcended into that of a village girl. How could she be so ungrounded?!

When she opened her eyes, she saw a group of people beating her up.

Mama, who can tell her what’s going on?

That patched up but handsome shy man actually liked her?

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