D.E.M.O.N.S: Getting Summoned Weekly isn't so Bad - Chapter 1392 - Lily’s Shadow Testing

A mental patient, or a born policeman?

A peerless genius, or a master of crime?

There are cops who are least like cops, and there are criminals who are least like criminals.

Neither good nor evil is absolute.

It is a grey world we live in.

- Description from Novelupdates

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?

Prince Alexander Herald von Triesenberg was the fourth prince of the Empire of Triesenberg who was banished from the Empire of Triesenberg for the crime that he didn’t commit.On their way to the island where he would be banished, a powerful storm swept through and sank the ship. Alexander drowned and at the moment, he thought he died from drowning.However, when he opened his eyes, he found himself lying on the shore of a sandy beach and a floating interface before his eyes.

Perhaps the paintings in a museum are subjected to more nonsense than you would hear anywhere else in the world.The language that comes out of an artist’s life is the painting itself. It contains the most ordinary lives that know failure, desire, recoiling in fear, and compromise.Learning is about understanding that language. We miss much of what the paintings speak because there is no way to ask the long-dead painters about the philosophy of their lives.In an alleyway in the residential area of Jongno, there’s a peculiar art gallery. This place enables us to transcend such limitations. By sheer coincidence, I ended up visiting that place and began living an entirely different life.