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... Forgot to break a typo

mad by readers

love your hair loss

Bald is the same

write? Does it match?

This **** style

code? code!

for that dream

To the whimper and roar that hit the keyboard

Who said that a person with 4,000 daily shifts is not a hero?

:

:

:

Cough, if I can have a thousand average, I will start at eight thousand every day.

...

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“How did you board the Astral Express, walk the Path of the Stars?”“Because I ended the Honkai, altered everyone's fate.”“So your first step on this path was becoming a hero?”“No, it was for survival, searching for a thigh to cling to.”“And then?”Ryan adjusted his glasses, his voice resounding.“I became the thigh.”

The Villainess With A Heroine HaremChapter 821: The New Trainer
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Born and raised as a nameless shadow guard for his kingdom’s crown prince, his life’s purpose was to be used and discarded at the whims of his liege.

And his meaningless life ended when the gaze of a princess lingered on him for too long. The crown prince had him beheaded without a second thought, as if throwing out trash.

Transmigrating into the body of a baby girl, the nameless shadow finally had a name, a family, and a place to call her own. Throwing away his past, the shadow guard was now called ‘Emilia’, and walked on a new path to seek fulfillment.

It was not meant to be, however, as the girl whom she had loved with all her heart and soul ended up mercilessly plunging a dagger through Emilia's love-struck heart at the highest point in her life.

The crowd clamored at the ‘deserved death of the villainess’, and at that moment, the shadow could only wonder… why?

Why am I always the one to dedicate myself fully to someone, only to be thrown away like trash in the end?

And thus, as her soul floated away while cursing in resentment, ‘Emilia’ vowed to herself that in her next life she shall never be the one to fully dedicate herself.

Whatever she likes shall be held in her palm, and shall never escape.

The moment the vow was made, a self-proclaimed villainess system proposed to partner with her, to explore and conquer the worlds through their anchors—the heroes and heroines.

And by cultivating this energy, she shall one day go back. Back to the world she was born as ‘Emilia’ in, and face the so-called heroine once more.

The second time they meet, Emilia won’t be the one drowning in regret!

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Author's Note: The heroines are not just trophies she’s collecting, only to be forgotten once she collects them. Each of them will remain relevant throughout the story. And it won’t become a mess, promise!

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Yo, Hi! I’m Frank, I made a deal with a demon to pay me some money for receiving a guest for a few days every week.
I had no idea about what I have done.
On May 1st, Conan ‘the God of Death’ came to my house. I was forced to let him in and we get involved in a criminal case.
On May 8th, Bruce Wayne ‘Batman’ came to me. I was forced to follow him to fight crime.
On May 16th, Hannibal Lecter, The Silence of the Lambs, came to my home. I can only say that I really can’t stand my guests.

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THE DEATH KNELLChapter 67: War of God’s and Shadows
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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.”