"Damn it, I can smell the meat cooking, and you still claim there's no money at home!"
Before Han Tianming even stepped into the house, his cursing voice reached the ears of the two inside.
Liu Muye turned his head toward the door and saw the same man who had been pestering Han Juyou for money at school. Today, the man reeked less of alcohol—likely because he’d gambled away all his cash and couldn’t afford a drink.
Spotting Liu Muye sitting at the dining table, the man froze for a second before blurting, "You—what are you doing here?"
"Why can’t I be here?" Liu Muye crossed his legs and smirked at Han Tianming. "Last time, you borrowed tens of thousands from me. Isn’t it about time you paid up—principal plus interest?"
Han Tianming’s face twisted in panic. "That’s a lie! I only took three thousand from you last time. When did it turn into tens of thousands?"
"Money lent from my hands comes with a 20% daily interest rate. After all these days, yeah, it’s tens of thousands now."
"You—this is daylight robbery!" Han Tianming’s eyes darted around before he spat, "You’ve got no proof! How can you claim I owe you anything? I don’t even know you! Stop lying!"
"Oh, playing dumb now?"
Liu Muye chuckled and picked up his phone from the table, playing back a recording.
["I only took three thousand from you last time."]
"See? Proof right here." Liu Muye waved the phone, a cold grin curling his lips. "If you think you can skip out on my debt, I’ve got ten thousand ways to ruin you."
"You—you—" Han Tianming stuttered, fear flashing in his eyes. He shot a furious glare at his daughter. "It’s you, isn’t it? You little jinx! You latched onto this punk to screw me over, didn’t you? You worthless brat, I should’ve—"
CRACK!
Before he could finish, Liu Muye hurled an empty rice bowl straight at his head. The bowl shattered into pieces on the floor.
Just yesterday, Han Juyou had cracked the back of his skull with a lunchbox, leaving a fresh scab. Now, Liu Muye’s bowl split his forehead open, blood gushing down his face.
Liu Muye stood and loomed over the man, disdain dripping from his gaze. "A man who only takes his anger out on his own child—you call yourself a father?"
"She’s mine! How I treat her is none of your damn business!" Han Tianming clenched his fists and swung at Liu Muye’s face.
But Liu Muye was ready. The moment he saw the punch coming, he kicked hard at the man’s shin.
THUD!
The punch missed as Han Tianming collapsed to his knees.
"Like throwing hands, huh?"
"Where’s all that big talk now?"
A middle-aged drunkard with a gambling addiction and a wrecked body was no match for a young, strong man like Liu Muye. Two more kicks to the gut, and Han Tianming was curled up on the floor, wheezing in pain.
"Cough… cough…"
"I’ll call the cops! I’ll have you locked up, you psycho!"
"Oh?" Liu Muye shrugged, utterly unfazed. "Go ahead. Need me to dial for you?"
He raised his foot to kick again, but Han Juyou stopped him.
"Don’t. Your life’s worth more than his. No point rotting in jail over trash like him."
As much as Han Juyou wished her father would drop dead, she couldn’t let Liu Muye be the one to do it. She refused to drag him down with her.
Liu Muye jabbed a finger at Han Tianming, snarling, "Hear that? Even now, your daughter’s begging for mercy for you. And you still think about selling her off? You’re not even human!"
"Cough… cough…"
Han Tianming tried to retort, but his coughing fit left him speechless. All he could do was glare hatefully at Liu Muye.
"The hell you staring at?"
SLAP!
Liu Muye didn’t hold back—his palm cracked against Han Tianming’s face with enough force to kill.
This was a fictional world, after all, and with his status as a top-tier rich heir, what did he have to fear?
...
BANG BANG BANG!
"Open the damn door!"
"Han Tianming, you son of a bitch! If you don’t pay up today, I’ll burn this place to the ground!"
"We saw you come home! Quit hiding and get out here!"
The moment Liu Muye’s slap landed, furious pounding erupted at the door, accompanied by vicious threats.
"Oh no—it’s the loan sharks who beat up my mom!" Han Juyou grabbed Liu Muye’s arm, panic in her voice. "Let me handle this. You need to hide!"
"I’m not the type to hide behind a woman." Liu Muye glanced at Han Tianming, still sprawled on the floor like a dead dog, and smirked. "These are the guys who put your mom in the hospital?"
"Yeah." Han Juyou studied his expression nervously. "Wh-what are you thinking?"
"An eye for an eye, of course."
Liu Muye strode into the kitchen, snatched the cleaver Han Juyou had been using to chop vegetables, and marched toward the door.
Debt collectors? He’d dealt with them before.
Back when he was barely ten, his father wasn’t home, and a group of thugs had cornered his mother. Desperate, he’d grabbed the sharpest cleaver in the kitchen, charged out, and started swinging.
He’d slashed one collector’s leg so deep the bone was visible. Another lost half a finger trying to wrestle the blade from him.
That sheer brutality had sent them all running.
That night, he’d cut ties with his father for good—never speaking another word to him, even when his mother died.
If he hadn’t been afraid as a kid, why would he be now?
CREAK.
The door swung open, and the shouting died instantly.
The gang of thugs outside froze, staring at Liu Muye standing there with a cleaver in hand.
One of them double-checked the house number, then the yellow-haired punk asked, "Isn’t this Han Tianming’s place? Who the hell are you?"
"You mean him?" Liu Muye jerked his thumb at Han Tianming, still lying in a pathetic heap by the door, a pool of blood staining the floor from his earlier head wound.
The thugs took in the scene—the blood, the cleaver—and their bravado evaporated. They paled, assuming Liu Muye was in the middle of silencing a witness.
"Uh… bro, didn’t realize you were… collecting too. We’ll, uh… come back another day—"
They turned to bolt.
"Hey hey hey, don’t run! Let’s chat."
Liu Muye yanked them inside before they could escape.
As the door locked behind them, a wicked grin spread across his face.
"Huh?"
"Ah!"
"Aah~~"
"Arrgh—!"
The room echoed with blood-curdling screams, the kind that sounded utterly agonized, helpless, and pitiful. Just hearing them was enough to know how badly they were getting beaten.
...

for mindless slaughter, this isn't for you.] My name is Ye Shu, and I'm a transmigrator. It seems I'm supposed to be the protagonist, but that feels pretty unlikely. This world has been invaded by a system. The antagonists on the other side have suddenly become pure, flawless saints. The female leads have been force-fed the so-called "original plot," making them think they've been reborn. Now, everyone thinks I'm scum. Including the old lady in my ring. And here I am, in the Monster Beast Mountain Range, braising pork. To put my situation in perspective— It's as if, the moment Xiao Yan stepped into the Monster Beast Mountain Range, the Soul Emperor already knew he would become the Flame Emperor, and Yao Lao had been turned to the enemy's side. I have nothing right now. Oh wait, that's not true. I do have a white-haired loli child-bride who's the Heavenly Dao, and her only skill is acting cute. So, tell me guys... what are my chances of making it to the end?

nto another world, I bought a slave for the first time, never expecting the silver wolf girl to be so cute... Lin Feng: I know it's cold, but you don't have to sneak into my bed! Yuna: Just sharing body warmth, if you dare do anything naughty, I'll definitely...

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”

young master of the Shen family—a figure of immense power and wealth beyond measure—and awakened the "Destined Ultimate Villain System"! His starting scenario? Running into his icy fiancée who shows up with a mountain-descending divine doctor to break off their engagement. The divine doctor arrogantly taunts: "What does your Shen family have besides a bit of stinking money? You're not even worthy of tying Qingxue's shoelaces!" Shen Fei just smiled. He completely defied the usual script: "Fine, I agree to break off the engagement. Also, notify the finance department to withdraw all investments from the Su family." Minutes later, with its capital chain severed, the Su Group teetered on the brink of bankruptcy! The once aloof and proud ice queen CEO was thrown into utter panic. That very night, she went to Shen Fei's villa, casting aside all dignity to beg and plead desperately... From then on, in this world teeming with Sons of Destiny, Shen Fei embarked on a path of extreme dimensional suppression! A mountain-descending divine doctor? Peerless medical skills? Shen Fei: "Reporting you for practicing medicine without a license! I'll gladly take your ancient medicinal cauldron and twin sister assassins." The Crooked-Smiling Dragon King? Commanding a hundred thousand soldiers with a single order? Shen Fei: "Illegal assembly and suspected treason! Let a fleet of attack helicopters sanitize the area and teach you what the state apparatus really means!" A reborn tycoon? Knows all the golden opportunities of the next decade? Shen Fei: "A trillion in capital to reverse and pump the stock market, making you blow your margin and jump on the very first day of your rebirth!" What Chosen Ones? What bearers of Heavenly Fortune? In Shen Fei's eyes, they're all just chives (i.e., suckers/marks) waiting to be harvested! Shen Fei: "Sorry, but as the Destined Ultimate Villain, I don't play by the rules of honor. I only play the game of dimensional suppression."