Picking Up Fragments - Chapter 318: Returning to Shanghai

In a world where magic is forbidden and witches are hunted, Ashlynn Blackwell has hidden her mark of the witch since birth. The night of her wedding she's betrayed and her secret is exposed. Attacked by her husband and his knights, Ashlynn was abandoned and left for dead in the wilderness.Rescued by the vampire lady Nyrielle, Ashlynn is offered a choice: die as a human or embrace her power as a witch. Bound by a mystical blood pact, Ashlynn is plunged into a world of ancient magic, immortal vampires, and deadly political intrigue for the chance to find eternal love.

Thirty years ago,A meteor fell, revealing God's ruins!A God stepped out from it and started to feed on humans.From that day forth, humanity became the prey of the God,All except for me!Because I feed on God.

Welcome to the universe of Spectre. Jace comes of age and joins the army like all others his age. In a militaristic society that is normal. But his high level of intelligence and hard work quickly make him invaluable. So invaluable that he becomes a center of conflicts as the galactic empires rise and fall, revolutions occur, and invaders arrive. Join Jace as he goes from an orphan from the slums to becoming Spectre. As he navigates his military life he also navigates passing relationships and long term... 'contracts'.The novel contains depictions of torture, bloodshed, and overall brutality. Sexual content is heavily suggested and will be depicted as well, but it will not be the focus of the novel.The book cover was generated using Adobe's AI art generation system.

Welcome to NecroCorp – Where War is Always in Stock!“Now with 15% off main battle tanks, because peace is bad for business.”Hello, traveler!Looking for a bone-forged sword? A modular mana cannon? Perhaps... a discounted main battle tank for your next kingdom raid?Oh wait, you're not a customer, you're a reader.Right. This is probably where I give you my “tragic backstory.” Fine.I used to be human.Then I died.Now I'm a Lich with a factory in a dead dungeon, a skeleton workforce that doesn't need lunch breaks, salaries, and a magical system that rewards me for selling stuff. So, I did what any sane undead would do: I started an arms corporation.Now I sell weapons to orcs, goblins, elves, humans, anyone with a grudge and a pile of magic stones. Need siege engines? Got 'em. Crossbows that reload themselves? Yup. Flamethrower golems? In development.But here's the trick: you can’t sell weapons if there’s no war.So when the world started calming down... well, I may have encouraged a few border skirmishes. For marketing purposes. Nothing personal. War drives demand, after all.So, if you're here for drama, explosions, undead capitalism, and morally questionable business strategies wrapped in bone and steel, you’ve come to the right dungeon.Just don’t ask about the warranty.There isn’t one that lived to tell and ask about it.