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... out four days a week with the little fox, while the remaining three days were with Jiang Xueli. After all, Han Wenwen was just getting started in the gaming scene and had a lot to learn.

As for He Qing, they mostly just chatted over the phone at night—he didn’t really spend time with her.

But as the saying goes, hard work pays off.

Han Wenwen’s gaming skills finally progressed from being unable to beat AI bots to dominating casual matches, and eventually, she started clim ...

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Yeon-woo had a twin brother who disappeared five years ago. One day, a pocket watch left by his brother returned to his possession. Inside, he found a hidden diary in which was recorded “By the time you hear this, I guess I will be already dead….”

Obelisk, the Tower of the Sun God, a world where several universes and dimensions intersect. In this world, his brother had fallen victim to betrayal while climbing up the tower. After learning the truth, Yeon-woo decided to climb the tower along with his brother’s diary.

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[NO. 4212: ‘Humanity’ has failed the Demotion Match.] [NO. 4212: ‘Humanity’ has been deemed useless. Beginning deletion.] As Earth was being erased after their final game ended in failure, Martial Saint Sung JiHan managed to resist deletion and saw messages pop up in front of him. [To think someone would be able to resist being erased.] [Let’s give him an opportunity to re-challenge.] [Player ‘Sung JiHan’ is returning to the time of initial entry in The League.] When he woke back up, he had regressed back in time. Given a second chance, he swore to himself to stop the fall of Korea and humanity and take flawless vengeance against those that ruined things in his original timeline.

Follow the journey of Korea’s Martial Saint, Sung Jihan, as he struggles to prevent a future of destruction and ascends as the Martial God!

The return of the fallen kingChapter 103 Why would they?
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-Picture is not mine, I do not own the right for it, so if owner wants it to be put down, please message me on the comment-

In a usurped kingdom , amid a war-torn and blood-soaked Italy, Conradin's battleground is set. To reclaim his birthright the crown of Sicily, he must tread a path paved with blood, learning that he must do whatever it takes to ascend the throne.

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In the year 1266, the tale of Conradin, the last scion of an ancient imperial dynasty, unfolds. His once-great kingdom, Sicily, has been ruthlessly usurped first by his own uncle and now rests in the hands of the cunning French Count Charles. Through a treacherous plot involving the Pope, Charles managed to oust the Hohenstaufen from the Kingdom of Sicily and crowned himself as its king.

In the East, powers such as the Despotate of Epirus are keenly observing the instability in Sicily, poised to seize any advantage that may arise from the chaos. Meanwhile, the small Italian communes are caught in the political crossfire, aligning themselves with one side of the conflict or the other based on the prevailing political party in power and their vested interests. These shifting allegiances turn the Italian peninsula into a powder keg, where all-out war seems inevitable.

As the shadows of history close in around Conradin, the world watches with bated breath. Will he emerge triumphant, his name forever etched in the annals of Sicilian glory as the rightful king who defied insurmountable odds, toppling both the Pope and the usurper? Or will he, in his valiant struggle, become a tragic figure, a symbol of lost opportunities and shattered dreams? The future of Sicily hangs in the balance, and Conradin's destiny remains uncertain, poised on the precipice of history.

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The clock struck midnight when Ruelle heard the echo of footsteps. She tensed, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end in the cool night air.“You shouldn't be here,” Ruelle whispered, her voice a breathless murmur. The silhouette finally came to stand under the moonlight, his dark red eyes watching her and his inky black hair ruffling.“Shouldn't I?” His voice was a dark caress, and she stood there captivated by the danger he exuded like perfume.“I haven’t seen you for the last two days,” his tone low. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the silk of her nightgown, tracing the trembling outline of her collarbone. “Tell me, were you avoiding me, or perhaps... entertaining other offers?”Ruelle’s heart raced, her breaths shallow. She declared, “I don't belong to anyone.”“A bold claim,“ he murmured, his breath a tantalising chill against her skin as he leaned in. ”Yet here you are, pulse racing, your body tensed as if in anticipation of my touch.”His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face towards his. The moonlight caught his eyes, revealing a glint of predatory intent. “Or must I remind you whose touch you truly crave?”