The Last Incubus with The Vice and Valor System - Chapter 4: Wish...

Once upon a time, there lived a person consumed by the desire for revenge.After finally achieving his goal of seeking revenge against all of his enemies, he was ultimately sentenced to death. Though he accepted his punishment, he suddenly found himself standing in an unfamiliar and surreal place, as if caught in a hallucination during his final moments. As his consciousness began to fade, a distinct voice accompanied him and whispered—”Welcome to Hell!”

Leon Vale’s world stopped when the chamber labeled him F-Rank, no spark, just Empty Core.One dozen sparks in a sea of a thousand chances. A near-miracle of failure, somehow flopped harder than flatlining.In Neo-Veridia, strength rules the game, no exceptions. Those who are tough get hailed as champions; others? They're stuck cleaning up messes. Might makes right here, plain and simple.Leon ended up on the ground. That’s where he landed, no surprise there.Later, the red moon climbed into view. Right after, creatures smashed past the shield. His siblings stood near death yet deep in his Empty Core, an old force stirred awake.[ SHADOW EXTRACTION SYSTEM ACTIVATED ]Leon takes energy from whatever he defeats. Each time a creature falls, he gains more strength. As shadows vanish into him, he drifts toward a mystery - something waits in a space beyond places: a seat atop no land, while a voiceless headpiece calls out to him through empty dark.Yet taking what’s not yours brings trouble.On top of everything else, the Evernight Alliance caught wind. Not just vampires - werewolves too. Old creatures that oughta be myths are poking at the city’s walls, messing up dungeon cores, chasing whatever’s pumping out that dark energy signal.Hunting for him.Leon’s stuck in a risky move, quietly getting stronger so he can shield his folks, hitting school while sneaking around to pull out shadows, acting powerless even though some old, grim force now names him successor.That F-Rank tag? Total fake. His Empty Core isn't broken, it fights. Each darkness he swallows drags him nearer to a reality he can’t face yetNot every seat of power fits a hero.Some crowns come from shadows, built on bones.Some kids just inherit stuff whether they like it or not.The Crimson Moon marked the start. What’s coming next? Things are about to heat up.

I freed the Slaves, but for some reason, they keep chasing after me.

“Sect Master! Marry me!”If only things were that simple.Fang Yuan lets out a long sigh, eyes fixed on the mountain of paperwork threatening to swallow his desk and his soul.As the youngest family head in history, you’d think he’d be enjoying fame, fortune, and fawning admirers.Instead, he’s buried in bureaucracy, stuck mediating elder disputes, and wondering if the sect treasury mysteriously eats spirit stones.Sure, the old geezers have their experience, their beards, and their lofty reputations.But Fang Yuan? He has one thing they don’t: raw, unshakable power.Born into a world where innate talent reigns supreme, Fang Yuan—a transmigrator armed with modern grit—actually managed the impossible: he clawed his way to the top with nothing but relentless hard work.While everyone else coasted on heavenly bloodlines and golden physiques, he trained, he studied, and he schemed.Now, he’s strong enough to bend heaven’s will.But cultivation isn’t all sword beams and glory.Life as a family head comes with its own set of woes—namely, watching his annoyingly handsome junior brother collect all the female attention like some kind of walking romance novel.“This isn’t fair,” Fang Yuan mutters under his breath, stamping another scroll. “I’m the protagonist here... right?”