A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor - Chapter 82 The Cruelty of The Gods - Part 7

The world had changed when the System arrived, alongside the Cataclysm that filled the world with monsters. The technology was gone, replaced by classes and skills that allowed the people to fight back. When Devon ended up as a Blacksmith, a class that didn’t grant Intelligence, he had to face the reality, that his old career that he loved - mathematical sociologist - was over. Instead, he had ended up as yet another discarded member of the production class, overshadowed by the existence of the System Shops to the point of total marginalization. But, what if all he needed was to reapply his scientific thinking to the System...

On the Star Network there is a gourmet food broadcast, where all you can see are a pair of hands. However each dish that this broadcast comes out with is earthshakingly delicious. What’s more, the broadcast anchor’s voice is simply perfect!

With the broadcast’s rising popularity, several food programs extended him an olive branch. When the anchor appeared on screen, as they suspected, he is handsome enough to incur the wrath of both men and gods! The fans licked their screens with increasing frenzy, but after licking a while, they discovered…

Fans:…Wait a minute, isn’t this our fatally-ill idol who hasn’t long to live?

Small Gong: Take these damned nutrient solutions and throw them away! And get me that broadcast anchor!

- Description from Novelupdates

Traveling through the Naruto world and becoming a member of the Uchiha clan, the third ninja war is about to start in a year or two, so panic.

At a critical moment, the golden finger goes online, and a character is drawn to obtain a random ability of the character, then am I not…

“Champion Mayweather’s shoulder-lifting defense, the flying cross-body for cooking a fish feast, Master Ma’s lightning five whips, Jack Ma’s skill guarding the road…

What kind of spicy chicken skills are these? “

- Description from novelbuddy

When the admissions office of Witch Academy called, I was stunned—I had been accepted into a school I never imagined I could touch.Yes, I am a boy and it is an all-girls’ academy, but they did not mind, so I saw no reason to object. I had applied secretly, without telling my family, just to take a chance.But as soon as those striking seniors greeted us newcomers—pressing every boy against the wall with a knowing smile—I realized things were about to spin out of control.“Oh, come now, you sweet little freshman,” one of them said smoothly, her voice full of mischief. “Don’t make this difficult for me, your big sis. Swallow this core and transform into a witch like me, alright?”She held the glowing orb before us, half-threatening, half-teasing, almost inviting the new boys to react. It was clear she enjoyed it—the blend of fear and resistance in their expressions. Our unease seemed to be her personal amusement.After all, they only had this opportunity once a year.