The Transmigrated Author - Chapter 207: The Induction

“Don't worry, dear. I won't let him touch my body even if I am forced to marry him. My love and my body will always be yours only. I am doing this to protect us. Please wait for me till I find a way out of this.”“Of course...I will wait for you...I trust you...” This poignant moment captures the profound love between a couple bound by their hearts. Yet, what unfolds when the man discovers his beloved has been ensnared in a trap she can never escape? What if his cherished woman is being manipulated by another man, unbeknownst to him? What if, while he sleeps, she is being ravaged by multiple men? The central question remains: Will her love for him endure, or will she be consumed by the abyss of corruption and lust? Dive into NTR Sagas, a collection of the most heart-wrenching and dark NTR stories, and explore the depths of human emotions in the face of betrayal and desire.

For Marco, Lucas is his meek little brother. For the rest of the world, he is the menacing Ghost of Vermil.“Angels endow blessings. Demons sow curses.” A hundred years ago, angels and demons descended on earth. It is said they are still here.Annointed with potent holy power, Marco is set to join the Kingdom's Holy Army to fight off the demonic legion. But before that, he must confront the trail of blood and ash that points to Lucas's involvement with the dark side.As mysteries unfold and loyalties fracture, Marco is faced with the question: where does holiness end and damnation begin? If all lines are blurred and the fate of humanity is at stake, will he have enough resolve to strike down the brother he once swore to protect?

Mimizuku, a small girl with chains on her wrists and ankles and the numbers “332” branded onto her forehead, wanders into the Forest of Night seeking to be eaten by a monster. However, when the ruler of the monsters, the mysterious and beautiful “King of Night,” refuses to eat her, she tries to formulate a way to convince him otherwise.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”