Surviving the Game as a Barbarian - Chapter 10

Hunter Cha Eui-jae, who was dispatched to seal a rift that appeared over the West Sea, was flung out as soon as he closed the rift. When he came to his senses, he was lying in a garbage dump.Starving, he was drawn like a zombie is to blood to a hangover soup restaurant, where he realized that he had fallen into South Korea, eight years in the future.In this era, disaster alerts notify people of rift openings in advance, ASMR videos of slimes gathered from dungeons were trending, and idle hunters livestream unboxings of A-rank longswords.Unlike the past, where people trembled in fear of an impending apocalypse, the future was surprisingly peaceful, leaving Cha Eui-jae feeling empty. Since things had turned out this way, why not start a second chapter of life as a part-timer at the hangover soup restaurant, rather than being a hunter?“That’s strange.”“…”“Have we met somewhere before?”Cha Eui-jae’s plan to quietly spend his remaining days as the only part-time worker at the decades-old hangover soup restaurant goes awry when he encounters a mysterious, gas-masked individual…DISCLAIMER: The story isn't mine

Can she melt the ice in Northendell... and his heart?Arielle is the forgotten princess of the Nieverdell, a country blessed with the warm sun all year round. She was sacrificed by her family to become the prisoner of the Northendell Kingdom because of the sins of her brother, the crown prince.In the kingdom covered by eternal ice, Arielle met King Ronan D. Blackthorn, a man full of mystery.King Ronan was cursed. On a full moon, he would lose his human side and turn into a werewolf. Weirdly enough, ever since Arielle stepped into his life, he could slowly control his animal instincts.But great power came with its own consequences. Arielle and Ronan were faced with a difficult choice:Lift his curse or lose Arielle forever.

I, Ning Daoran, have achieved what I have today step by step, relying solely on my own efforts!

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”