Absolute Death Game - Chapter 501 - 3 Preparations for the BOSS Battle_2

The person who was locked away inside the thorn-covered tower was not a princess, but a witch who employed the powers of darkness.

A brave young hero came searching for the tower in order to kill the witch.

– Light would force the darkness to recede, and grant it eternal rest

The witch wished.

That things would end with, ‘and the hero lived happily ever after killing the witch,’ like in the fairy tales.

And so, she had devised everything to happen in accordance to her wishes.

But the boy, who had grown up in but no time at all, would make the unfamiliar face of man’s from time to time.

“You want me to kill you? ……Do you really think I’ll let you go?”

Reality was very different from the fairy tales.

“The people don’t know of the precious treasure locked away in the tower.

I won’t let anyone else have this god given treasure, this crown of god surrounded by thorns that no one else could recognize.”

The hero gave the witch a slow and deep kiss.

“I am the true victor, and no one else.”

Front page is “XOULSEY LAREN LINDBURY - THE MONOCHROMATIC BEAUTY”.Next in line are, CITRONELLA, THE RECEPCIONIST, THE NOT SO OLD HAG and QUEEN MIREYA, (THE BLONDE YOUNG MAN and THE ALBINE are ready along with, VERIZON, (Comment if you want to see any specific CHARACTER or CONTRACTED PARTNER in the corresponding section, and cheer for your favorite!).(I am working on the Æzh'Xinder and the other Creatures)After having his Military Service extended from four to more than twenty two years due to an administrative error, “Drïekvïer”, Better known as “Trektör” or “The Worst Nightmare Of The Farioth”, is abruptly forced to stop his deployment, all because the change of a law in the Nation he choose to live in, “The Kcrwlmndth Federation”.Said law forbid anyone under 78 years of age to be in active militar duty; Him being almost 45 years old and considered a Veteran doesn't help him in the slightest to make an exception.With this unexpected development, he decide to try something new and impulsive by taking the “Talent” test of the neighboring country in order to obtain a “Profession”and qualify for one of the most prestigious Academies in the gigantic planet of “Clarattoia”.To achieve this, is mandatory to have a score of “7”, of a maximum of 22.5, after all, with out a Profession is impossible to access “Protocol” and nurture the hidden beast inside all of us; However, life always send us challenges when we are less prepared for them.

The eldest daughter of Hou Di of Anding, who fled for her life, was concussed by someone slapped with a brick. When she woke up, she became the young daughter-in-law of a farm family.

There are many crises outside, and I am afraid that my life will not be guaranteed. Xi Yao feels that the vest cannot be dropped, nor can it be dropped in death…

In order not to be driven away, Xi Yao, who worked hard, accidentally became the group pet of the Zhou family, and everyone protected her.

Zhou Rong, who had never seen a bride since he was a child, was blackmailed by his father-in-law. He even exploited the money to take the exam. He married a sick wife. OK, absolutely impossible.

In order to express his position, Zhou Rong spoke coldly and ruthlessly, and then found that his little daughter-in-law treated the family’s milk baby better than him…

He thinks that his daughter-in-law is very good, and thinks that he can still work hard…

- Description from novelbuddy

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”