He Clings to Me Every Night - Chapter 796 - - You Should Reflect On Yourself

In a world where power is stolen from the blood of dead gods, the strong feast, and the weak are forgotten. Dante “the Fox” Hollow knows this all too well—he’s a low-tier Harvester, scraping by on leftover drops of divinity while the real monsters take everything. Quick with a blade, quicker with his mouth, and always one step ahead of trouble, Dante dreams of a day when he won’t have to run anymore.That day comes when he stumbles upon the abandoned resting place of a god—not just any god, but the Trickster himself. A legend, a liar, a master of chaos. And Dante? He’s just stupid enough to take a sip.Now, the hunger is setting in. The whispers in his head are getting louder. The gods are watching, and some aren’t happy. Dante’s power is growing—too fast, too dangerous—but the higher he climbs, the closer he gets to losing himself.Because there’s one rule every Harvester knows: the more you steal from the gods, the less of you remains.And Dante? He plans to steal everything.

Ichiro was a man who had to live through a tragic and awful life.After losing his wife, his only source of happiness, his despair only got worse until the day he died.To Ichiro's fortune, the Goddess of Life, Phelena, decided to send his soul into a new body in another world. His only condition was for the Goddess to send him far away from people.The goddess agreed, but she certainly had other plans for Ichiro's new life.A wholesome story about a man rekindling his love for living and encountering his lost wife in another world![Story is written in 1st person with a casual tone]

For twenty years since his soul had transmigrated, Bailuo thought this was an ordinary world, until one day, a black leather book appeared in his mind.“Is there magic in this world?”Facing Bailuo’s question, his uncle remained unwavering as he said, “No.”“But there are miracles.”“What are miracles?”“A sword that can release flames, a pot that can pour out gold, a beautiful girl grown from a fruit.”The uncle said, “Controlling the mist, bringing the storm, commanding the thunder.”“Magic!”Bailuo raised his hand and pointed, “This is definitely magic!”“No.”His uncle said, “These are truly miracles.”Years later, when Bailuo looked upon the nation he had built with his own hands, that magnificent and majestic sight, he agreed with what his uncle had said all those years ago, “This is a miracle…”