Paragon of Death - Chapter 258 - : I am Damon Ross!

“Classes” are given at the age of 10, and the presence or absence of “skills” greatly affect life. Arel, the son of “Sword Princess” Fara and “Magic King” Leon, has been branded as “Classless”… But even without a job or skills, Arel believes he can persevere through effort.

The world of Nyil, with its monsters, its knights and its mildly sociopathic gods. Come and see! A soul flees and a soul arrives, blessed by luck. Will she survive? Will she thrive? Will she become a calamity? After all, luck is such a fickle thing. ‍

“Mr. Kira, many people believe that the current dueling environment has become increasingly toxic, with dominant trends of heavy traps and defensive, closed-off playstyles. They say this unhealthy atmosphere was brought about by you, as the new generation's Duel King. What do you think about this?” a reporter asked during an interview.“Slander! Pure slander!”Kira was angered by this accusation.“Why say it was me who started this?”“Dueling has always been like this!”It's not his fault.Who let him play Yu-Gi-OH!

The year was 2026, and the world wasn't what it used to be. Ever since the Abyss Gates cracked open three years ago, spilling monsters and dungeons across the planet, life had turned into a chaotic mess. Cities were half-ruined, half-rebuilt, and people clung to whatever normalcy they could find. Hunters—those brave or crazy enough to fight the monsters—became the new heroes. Everyone else? Well, they just tried to survive.Fin wasn't a Hunter. He wasn't a hero either.He was just… Fin. A lanky 19-year-old with messy brown hair, a chipped front tooth from a dumb skateboard accident, and a power that everyone called useless. Absorption. Sounds cool, right? Like he could suck up energy or steal someone's strength. Nope. All it did was let him “feel” things he touched a little more than normal. He could tell you the exact texture of a brick wall or how warm a coffee mug was—big whoop. No fireballs, no super strength, no flashy moves. Just a glorified touchy-feely trick.“Fin, you gonna eat that sandwich or just stare at it like it's gonna confess its life story?” Meg's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.He blinked and looked across the rickety table at his best friend. Meg was short, loud, and had a wild mop of dyed purple hair that she swore made her look “intimidating.” It didn't.