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... the quietness of their village they still had no idea what happened to the beacon of light that was guiding them, their hearts heavy with the weight of uncertainty.

Upon returning back everyone felt guilty that they left Garnt, but at the same time, they knew the option of helping him was not something they could do, especially when their enemy had so many guns that they used to kill dinosaurs.

Rona and Unami leading the crowd noticed Gundo waiting for their arrival, but they di ...

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Hunted for the Alchemical Book in her hand - Mu Ruyue wakes up in the body of a wastrel in Shenwu Continent - a martial arts dominated world.Her fiancé has jilted her in favor of her foster sister.Her father condones her abuse.Her younger sister wishes she was never born.And the whole country ridicules and insults her for being a first-rate wastrel.Wastrel? Not at all. With the Alchemical Book in her hand, what pills and elixirs can't she refine?Jilted? She'd rather marry the pure and innocent Ghost King, Ye Wuchen.----Mu Ruyue: Stop calling me Sister!Ye Wuchen: Can I call you Wife then?Mu Ruyue: Not that either!Ye Wuchen: (about to cry)Mu Ruyue: (sighs) Suit yourself.Ye Wuchen then leans forward and kisses the corners of her lips.Mu Ruyue: …Did a child just steal her first kiss?----Brother 1: Let her go!Brother 2: She is my mother, why should I let go of her!Brother 1: Don't ever think of robbing my mother!Mu Ruyue: Let me introduce you, Jing'er, this is your younger brother. Huang'er, this is your elder brother.Huang'er: Mother, this stupid boy bullied me. He's not my brother.Jing'er: Little guy, from now on, you must listen to me.Ye Wuchen: (How exactly do these two regard him? They dare fight over his wife in front of him...)

Professor Vampire.Chapter 318 - King’s Cross Station(End of article)
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Dumbledore always believed Voldemort was the greatest threat to the wizarding world until a thousand-year-old vampire showed up at Hogwarts with the deed in hand—“A thousand years have passed, and Hogwarts' lease is up!” said Dracula. “Headmaster, you wouldn't want your students to be homeless, would you?”“What do you want?” Dumbledore asked gravely.“Anything interesting.”“Well, I think the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is quite interesting!”...And so, Hogwarts gained a professor who couldn’t be dismissed.McGonagall: “Albus, I don't think Professor Dracula's teaching is suitable for the poor children!”Dumbledore: “There's nothing I can do, no one can fire him.”...Draco: “My father is a governor, I'll have him get you fired!”Lucius slapped Draco on the head, “Mr. Dracula, Draco speaks without thinking. Please, don't fire the Board of Governors!”...This is the story of a vampire who lived too long and found amusement in the wizarding world out of sheer boredom.

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[Warning: Mature Content 18+, Harem, No NTR!]He was only ten years old when his world turned to ash. Hidden behind a door, shivering with helplessness and fear, the boy peered through the keyhole and watched his parents die. He never knew who killed them. He never even saw the faces of those who took everything from him.The terror was too much for a ten-year old boy. His mind shattered, erasing that night from his memory. And then everything was blank, darkness in front of his eyes as he lost consciousness.When his eyes opened again, a man stood before him, a stranger with a gentle smile and eyes filled with something strange… pity? Or something else?“What happened here boy?”“Happened where?”“You don’t remember, do you?”“Remember what…? Where is father? My Mother?”“I guess this is for the best.”“Good boy. Your father was my dearest friend… and now, you are my responsibility. From now on, you will be my son.”“You have no one left, boy… but I can make sure no one ever takes anything from you again.” The man said gently.And then that man forged him into something inhuman. A weapon honed to perfection, a shadow lurking in the underworld. The mere whisper of his name - Draugr, A ghost that never truly dies, sent grown men into cold sweats, their legs trembling beneath them.The boy soon outgrew his master and carved his own legend in blood. But all this while he never stopped searching—for the ones who killed his parents, for the truth, for revenge.And finally, after fifteen years of silence, he was close. The last clue he needed was just within his grasp.It was so close, yet just an inch out of his grasp. He was ambushed, a trap he never saw coming.Wounded, bleeding out, fighting for his life against an army of men and women eyeing to claim his life, he should have died. But fate had something else stored for him.Barely holding onto life, he stumbled into a girl—fragile-looking, yet completely unafraid of the monster before her. She didn’t run. She didn’t scream. Instead, she smiled.She saved him. Took him to a hospital. And as he lay unconscious, she made her plans.But when he woke up… He had lost everything, He remembered nothing.Not just the truth of his parents' murder. Not just the years of searching. Not just the enemies and allies he'd made along the way. Not even his own name.Twenty-five years of his life—wiped clean.Now, in a world that fears his very name, with ghosts of a past he can no longer remember hunting him in the shadows—he must decide: Is he still the Draugr they all fear? Or is he just a man searching for the pieces of himself?And who is the girl who stole his fate and bound it to hers?

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I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.