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... "

"Submit under the dragon wings, or turn into ashes in the flames."

When Critchens and Fred came and stood behind Garen, Garen bowed his head slightly, looking down at the fire dwarves, and said to Critchens calmly.

On the opposite side, the fire dwarves who did not like to be looked down upon by the condescending view of this behemoth did not complain at this time.

After all, it's still from the heart.

Before a powerful force could easily kill everyone in his ...

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[No heroine, no emotional line, no ambiguity, a lot of private settings, a comprehensive world view, I am an organization. 】

[There is a story about an undercover police officer with real wine, there is a possibility of death for the red party, and both Bourbon and Scotland are real wine]

“Name.”

“Osamu Dazai.”

“gender.”

“A man without a doubt.”

“age.”

“14.”

“The code name of the Black Organization.”

“Cahor.”

“Why did you join the Black Organization?”

“Well, because I’m the adopted son of that gentleman.”

[This article is also known as Osamu Dazai of COS. I recognized a thief as a father in the Conan crew. I am not disqualified in this world. I am full of fighting skills. I appeared in Japan the next second at the comic exhibition and became a three-year-old slaughter]

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- Description from novelbuddy

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“Look at him,” someone snickered from a few rows over. “Smells like he sleeps in a dumpster.”“Probably does,” another voice added, louder this time. Nox just stared at his textbook, the words blurring. He had heard it all before.Then, Mark, one of the main reasons his life was a living hell, swaggered past his desk. Mark always had a smirk on his face. “Oops,” he said, not even trying to sound accidental, as a full cup of bright orange juice tipped over, splashing all down the front of Nox's already ruined shirt. The cold liquid soaked through instantly. Laughter erupted around the room. It was loud, clear, and mocking. Nox slowly looked up. His eyes landed on Ms. Joy, who was watching the whole thing. She had seen Mark deliberately pour the juice on him. He raised his hand, a small, tired gesture. “Ms. Joy,” he said, his voice flat. “He just poured juice on me. Are you just going to ignore it? Again?.” Ms. Joy looked at him, then at Mark, who was now theatrically wiping his hands. A small smile played on her lips. Then she chuckled. Just a little airy laugh.“Oh, Nox, don't be so dramatic. Boys will be boys, right Mark?” Mark puffed out his chest. “Yeah, Ms. Joy. He's just sensitive.” The class laughed even harder at that. Ms. Joy joined in, her laughter ringing out with theirs. Hearing them all, hearing her laugh, something in him finally snapped. It wasn't a loud break, more like a quiet, final click. He realized it then, with a cold, hard clarity. No one was coming to save him. No teachers, no police, no parents he never had. No one cared. If he wanted this to stop, he would have to be the one to stop it. He was the only one who could.His face remained blank, but his mind was suddenly very clear. He reached down slowly, his hand going into his worn-out school bag. The laughter died down a little as a few students noticed his deliberate movement, a strange stillness about him. He pulled out a gun.The classroom went silent. Utterly, completely silent. Mark's smirk vanished, replaced by wide, terrified eyes. Even Ms. Joy stopped laughing, her face paling. “What… Nox, what are you doing?” she stammered, her voice suddenly shaky. He didn't answer. He looked around at their faces, one by one. Fear. He saw fear now. Good. He was ready. He was going to make them all pay. He was going to end it, all of it.Just as he was about to raise the gun properly, a bright blue screen appeared right in front of his face. It was translucent, and only he seemed to see it. [Congratulations! You have met the requirements!] [1st Player Chosen!] [You have won the System!]

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