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

Ling Pingan looked at the time on his phone.

The moon was dark and the wind was high. The streetlights on the roadside seemed to be flickering due to the lack of maintenance.

In the depths of the alley, there was the faint whimper of a wild cat.

In the distant forest, there seemed to be the low growl of an owl.

Most of the shops on both sides of the road were closed.

There was only faint light coming through the cracks in a few doors.

At the junction ahead, a rusted road sign was hanging on a telephone pole.

On it was written 'Northern Road', with directions.

Ling Pingan scratched his head and looked at the sparse buildings on both sides of the road.

"So this is a place that sells funeral supplies..."

The shops on the side of the road were mostly shroud shops and paper money shops.

At the intersection, he could see piles of burnt paper money.

The Adventures Of The Cross Slope (1)