MTL - Super Soldier - Chapter 1892 Thunderbolt

“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!]

In a world where life energy fuels martial prowess, Shen Yifan, with a mere mortal lifespan of a hundred years, finds solace in slaying demons to extend his own vitality. Amidst the chaos of a realm teeming with malevolence, he brandishes his blade, striking terror into the hearts of creatures who have roamed the earth for centuries! Yet, amidst his valiant exploits, Shen Yifan sometimes ponders, why does his lifespan seem to dwindle faster with each use of his powers? Sheathing his sword, he gazes skyward, hearing tales of the divine palace in the heavens, where immortal beings dwell, having weathered endless eons. Embarking on a celestial journey, he seeks to beseech the gods for a loan of a million years, to pave his path towards eternal life.

The first meeting was at a small bar. A friend nudged his arm, smiling somewhat suggestively: A woman like Daisy Ginger should be kept in a vase, constantly admired, and toyed with at any moment.At that time, she seemed to be drunk and was persuaded by her friend to take to the dance floor and perform a dance.He propped up his face, watching the glamorous woman with casual indifference under the dazzling lights.Daisy Ginger.The name is spicy enough.The figure.Also spicy enough.Banyan City’s young Master Wen, afflicted with a severe illness, was deemed by doctors at birth to not live past the age of thirty. He lived capriciously up to the age of twenty-five, never imagining he’d encounter such a dilemma in his lifetime—if he were to die, what would happen to the little demon at home who creates chaos and mischief without his protection, and ends up bringing harm upon herself when he’s no longer there to shield her?