I Have Seven Big Brothers - Chapter 411: The beauty of the peacock

Kiro is a slave branded with a deadly collar, forced to work in brutal mines under the ruthless Kargal Empire. Each year, slaves are hunted for sport in the deadly Hunting Games—a fight to the death on a savage alien moon. This year, Kiro is chosen to play. Sent into a wilderness filled with monsters and traps, survival seems impossible. But something ancient watches from the shadows—and it has plans for him.

[Starting in Tokyo, staying overnight for the first time. 】

[Only by becoming stronger can you stop everyone’s mouths. 】

【Only by becoming better can you live without regrets. 】

A boy reborn in Tokyo, my high school life began when I met a girl from a family.

This book is also known as “Sign-in begins with cohabitation”, “I play games in Tokyo”, and “The Perfect Life Begins with Private Toyosaki”.

To care about the people you want to care about, to protect the people you want to protect.

starting today.

“System, I’m not a human anymore!” – by Kato Yusuke

(This book is a comprehensive daily love story, sweet text.)

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”

Mesmerizing female moonlight priest, a beauty of the darkness who captivates the soul of others… They all flood to his side!