Blind Leek

As the owner of an ordinary bookstore, Ling PingAn’s biggest wish was to muddle through life and do absolutely nothing. 
 
However, customers that were right in the middle of their pubescent crisis kept visiting his store in the dead of night.
 
For the sake of his business, Ling PingAn had to mimic their childish tones, sparing no effort to promote the books in his store.
 
When he finally managed to sell his books after going through a great verbal tug-o-war, each and every one of them said that they don’t have money, and that they wish to use various tools that were seemingly divine artifacts as pledge.
 
Looking at these customers, Ling PingAn could only agree to them resignedly.
 
But little did he know that every single book that these customers purchased from him had altered in appearance.
 
“Secrets of Cosplay” became “Lower Abyss Research Report”
 
“Stellaris: Settings for Synth Ascension” was in fact “Gospel for Synthetic Beings”
 
What’s more, in the eyes of these customers, he was actually a horrifying ruler of Diablos, an indefinable entity that held the reins of all realms.
 
In this regard, Ling PingAn said, “I’m not, I didn’t, don’t talk nonsense.
 

I Really Am Not The Lord of Demon

The thirteen witches stared blankly at the scene in front of them.

An ordinary-looking Easterner was standing beside a wooden counter.

He had a sincere smile on his face and didn't seem to be faking it.

On his shoulder, a little black cat stood alone.

The light of the pyramid reflected off of his sacred body.

The power of the Guardian had obviously returned.

The witches swallowed their saliva.

They saw Mr. A sitting on the sofa, like a good baby, not daring to move.

At this moment, the leader of the Beast sect was comparable to a child in kindergarten.

He sat on the sofa with his head down, the pharaoh's scepter on the side, and the mask of the Sphinx hung down deeply.

He did not even dare to raise his head to look at the witches who had already come to the door.

"What's going on?" A witch thought.

They clearly remembered that they had not been separated from Mr. A for more than ten minutes!

Please Believe Me