Memory Reaper's Ascension - Chapter 52: Guests

After transmigrating into a apocalyptic world, Yasin awakened a system that allowed him to travel between two timelines.He soon discovered an astonishing truth—women from both worlds were mysteriously linked.In the brutal apocalyptic world of 1993, they pledged their loyalty to him for survival.Yet, in the dazzling spotlight of 2006’s Hollywood, they remained legendary superstars.But the moment they saw him… they couldn’t stop herself from kneeling.

“Failed writer. Failed hunter. Failed at life.”Aiden Jus had heard it all before. At twenty-eight, he was a walking reminder of what happened when you failed your mana awakening and spent thirteen years chasing a dream that would never come true. No powers. No future. Just a cramped flat in the UK and a lifetime of rejection letters from publishers who never bothered to read past the first page.But the day Aiden decided to give up on writing—the day he was ready to finally accept a soul-crushing desk job at an editing firm—everything changed.*[You have been chosen by Nabu, God of Literacy and Scribes]**[Skill Acquired: Narrative Embodiment (Divine-Rank)]*The ancient Mesopotamian deity offered Aiden something unprecedented: the power to physically enter any story he writes and gain real abilities from the fictional worlds he creates.*[You have mastered Celestial Blade Art - Skill permanently acquired]**[You have learned Tier-9 Spell: Void Severance - Spell permanently acquired]*Every sword technique mastered, every spell learned, every power gained inside his stories becomes permanently his in the real world. But so does every death trap, overpowered villain, and narrative cruelty he carelessly wrote in moments of frustration.Suddenly, Aiden isn't just a failed writer anymore. While other awakened humans rely on mana cores and dungeon raids, Aiden's strength comes from the worlds born from his imagination—a power that operates outside the traditional hunter system entirely.As rival gods compete for powerful human contractors and ancient ruins promise unimaginable treasures, Aiden must survive the deadly fictional universes he created while building his reputation in a society that once dismissed him as worthless.**From the typewriter to the battlefield, Aiden Jus will prove that the pen truly is mightier than the sword—as long as you're willing to live through every word you write.**

❗[Current Writing Contest-WebNovel Spirity Awards 2025 Fantas]❗Flain grew up in a futuristic world. When he was born his parents didn't want him because he didn't live up to their expectations and so he ended up very badly.Flain was employed as a slave. He was forced to mine radioactive iron deep in the mines. It was drilled into his head that he existed only to obey orders.Young Flain was obedient. He doubted some of it but knew nothing else. For years, he never saw a single ray of light; light was only spoken of among the others as a legend.The routine was the same: in the morning, he would take a nutrient tablet and water. Then he would mine all day, sleep eight hours, and repeat.Flain worked like this from childhood until he was ten years old. He even found a friend, but that friend died of radiation poisoning right in front of Flain. Flain couldn't stop mining. He kept mining with tears streaming down his face.Before bed, Flain cried. “I will become the strongest. I will kill you all, and you will become my slaves.”Flain stopped crying, stared blankly at the rocky ceiling, then looked ahead. A manic grin appeared on his face, one that would often adorn it from that moment on.At the age of ten, Flain was assigned to a military camp due to his endurance in the mines and his survival against radiation.In the camp, Flain was trained. The regime was much looser; he even had an hour of free time each day. However, Flain didn't make any more friends. Even during his free time, he trained with a smile. He would achieve his goal at any cost, even if it meant training himself to death.Experiments were conducted on Flain. He lost his hair, two long gray arms grew on his back, and a third red eye appeared. Flain became a mutant.Flain was then sent to war. He fought with sharp katabas. He performed quite well in the war, earning himself command of ten soldiers and becoming a small commander.But one day, everything changed.Flain then dies, is swallowed by darkness, and Flain refuses to die, thus appearing as a skeleton in a fantasy world.

[Mature Content] [Dark Themes]Catherine Lane had the perfect job in Midnight City, secretary to Ares King, the impenetrable billionaire bachelor, infamously known as the devil CEO.To the outside world, Catherine's life was nothing short of flawless, but in reality, she struggles with debts on the verge of ruining her life. To avoid harassment, she decides to quit and get the cut that comes with it.As if that wasn't enough, her long-term boyfriend cheated on her, claiming she's a wreck with no future, and he's better off without her.Heartbroken and devastated, Catherine is grasping at the last straws when her boss, Ares King, proposes a contract out of the blue.“Become my wife for one year.”“Why me, Mr. King?”“Because we work, Ms. Lane.”The last thing she wanted was to make a deal with the devil. But this offer is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.Sell your soul to the devil for one year. How hard can that be?*****“I think that's all...” My heart throbbed as I grabbed my pen. Here comes the hard part.“You're forgetting something, Ms Lane.”“Hmm?”“We haven't looked over the special clauses.”Special Clauses? Shit! I forgot about that.“The next page.”I flipped the paper.Number one: The wife should under no circumstances fall for the husband. Should the wife breach this clause, all compensation shall be nullified and revoked.“Unfortunately, changes can't be made to that clause.”I scoffed. Does he actually think I'd fall for him?“Understood. Emotional attachments should be prohibited.”“This, Ms. Lane, is why I said we work.”A/N: This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental.