MTL - I Can Extract My Identity and Join the Death Game - Chapter 149

Zane was just a working-class adult with a passion for one thing—Cursed Bloodline Online, the once-revolutionary game that had faded into obscurity. After six long years of grinding, he was finally on the verge of ascension—until everything changed.His bloodline suddenly reset.The world itself changed immediately after.And without warning, everyone between the ages of sixteen to thirty vanished—pulled into the game’s world.Now trapped in the Realm of Bloodlines, Zane finds himself different from the others. While most awaken standard paths to power, he inherits a hidden Bloodline Class—the Cursed Bloodline of the Vampire Progenitor, the same bloodline that mysteriously appeared on his account just moments before the transfer.Alone, hunted, and feared as one of the last of a forgotten, despised race, Zane must fight to survive. To grow stronger before the world turns on him. To uncover the secrets of his cursed identity. And to discover what force brought them all into this deadly game.Slowly but surely, he forgets himself from the past, overtaken by the life of the body he now inhabits and the mysteries that surround it, becoming the very thing that caused the gods to curse his race in the first place.

Zarah is nothing but a lowly runt in Howl Creek who is bullied relentlessly. She wants nothing more than to leave the oppressive pack. When it is revealed who her mate is—none other than her greatest bully, Alpha Damon—she is humiliated and rejected.She leaves for the human sector and lives her life with her son, only for the past to come knocking. Alpha Damon is back, and he wants his son.

Epic fantasy presence: Ashes Of The First Tyrant [AOTFT]Prologue – The Law of AuraThey say every soul burns.Some flare brightly and fade. Others smolder quietly for a lifetime.But a rare few, rare beyond reason ignite with such intensity that the world bends to them. These are not gods. Not yet.These are the Tyrants.And their aura is not a gift.It is a weight a burden.In this world, aura is everything.It is the breath behind a sword strike, the pressure behind a command, the silent will that can crush or inspire. Most are born with it. Few master it.But only one…only one in an ageawakens the Tyrant’s Spirit…the aura that dominates not by force, but by presence alone.

Japan – National News BroadcastThe polished news anchor sat upright, her gaze sharp as she adjusted the stack of papers before her. The newsroom behind her hummed with quiet urgency, the weight of the moment settling over the broadcast.“Authorities are baffled by a sudden and unexplained surge in sleep-related deaths across Japan,” she began, her voice steady yet tense. “More and more citizens are passing away in their sleep without any prior health concerns. Experts are working tirelessly to determine the cause, but no clear explanation has emerged. Authorities urge the public to remain vigilant and report any unusual symptoms before bedtime.”A graphic appeared, displaying the spike in fatalities over the past month. Behind her, unsettling photographs flickered across the screen—blurred images of individuals found in their beds, their faces frozen in expressions of terror.The anchor’s tone shifted. “Health officials recommend citizens avoid excessive fatigue and maintain healthy sleep habits. More updates will follow as investigations continue.”---United States – Paranormal PodcastIn a dimly lit podcast studio, the host leaned forward, his eyes wide with curiosity. Across from him, a rugged man in a worn flannel shirt, gripping a faded photograph in one hand and a beer can in the other, leaned back in his chair.“So, you're telling me you saw this creature firsthand?” the host asked, clearly intrigued.The man scoffed, shaking his head. “Damn right, I did. Ugly thing had wings bigger than my body—slow but sneaky. Thought it could steal my pigs again, but I was ready this time—camera in one hand, shotgun in the other.”He slammed the table for emphasis, then shoved the blurry image toward the host. The photograph depicted a small, red-skinned humanoid figure with large, bat-like wings, its eyes glowing faintly in the darkness.“Spit, the thing didn’t know what hit it when I fired!” the man chuckled, his voice full of excitement.The host held up the picture to the live chat. “Alright, what do you think? Mothman? Demon? Or is our friend here just seeing things?”The chat exploded with theories—some skeptical, others eager for the investigation to continue.---China – Liangyuan Street MarketSurveillance footage from a bustling night market in China captured a chilling scene. A woman in a red qipao walked gracefully through the crowd, her figure striking in the soft glow of lanterns.Suddenly, she paused. Her body flickered—like a glitch in a video—before vanishing completely, as though she had never existed.The footage zoomed in, replaying in slow motion. In the final frame before she disappeared, her face distorted unnaturally, her eyes hollow and empty.The screen cut abruptly to black.