MTL - Crimson Comes - Chapter 263 my scepter

Until he became the lowest-ranked master, his lonely and luckless life never changed.

Suddenly one day, a descendant injected him with a nanomachine, and the machine started ‘speaking’ to him.

“What? What are you talking about?”

This was beyond the boy’s knowledge, he turned pale.

The Nanomachine linked to his cerebrum realized the User was not understanding a single word it said.

“Who are you, and why are you doing this to me?”

“Nano Mashin?”

The boy’s face hardened.

Mashin was the deity the Mashin Religion worshipped, along with the Sacred Fire.

The religions’ Master communicated with Mashin.

“Um, are you really Mashin?”

The boy knelt down and asked with a trembling voice. At this, the Nanomachine attached to his cerebrum realized it had been misunderstood.

After getting shot, Lucas, a serial killer, reincarnated into the novel world as a tragic villain with the same name, Lucas Ciffer.

Lucas Ciffer was supposed to be the Holy Kingdom's successor to the throne, but his demonic appearance and the powers he possessed terrified the entire kingdom. A white-haired boy with red eyes and pale skin, together with his dark powers, got persecuted and exiled by his own family. Not to mention that in the future he was destined to die by the hand of the hero.

Lucas fell from holiness, and, with the serial killer's bloodlust and knowledge of the future, he decided to prove the world right.

Yes. I could be a villain; no, in fact, I WILL BE THE VILLAIN.

Li Yiyi never expected to be chosen by fate, being suddenly ripped from the modern times to the ancient times. It wasn’t a full-body transmigration, just a soul transfer. Heaven must have thought it would be too exhausting to send everything over, so only the essence got transferred.In ancient times, Li Yiyi became Li Suniang, a newly widowed woman with a young child. While technology in ancient times wasn’t advanced, the air was fresh and there was no need to worry about pollutants. All the food was purely organic with no pesticide residue or concerns about genetically modified ingredients.It was often said that widows attracted trouble, and sure enough, this young widow caught the eye of a scarred man in the village. Despite his fierce appearance, he turned out to be a gentle person. In the end, the scarred man married the widow and, together with her child, and they began a life filled with mutual support and raising a family.

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.