The Birth of A Volleyball Legend - Chapter 314: The Bracket is Here!

“The civilians here are not simple, they are cunning, they are greedy, they are tyrannical.”

“The nobles here are not noble, they are selfish, they are arrogant, they are insidious.”

“I used to be angry about this, but now I pity them. This is a dark world. Since they were born, they have not had the opportunity to choose another life. Now it is up to me to give them.”

“I will bring food and clothing to them, and then they will have morality. I will bring comfort to them, and then they will have faith. I am a traveler from a distant world, and I will bring the fire of civilization to In this dark and wild place, I know I am doing the right thing, eradicating famine, driving out disease, suppressing crime, ending war, and giving anyone who wants a change a second chance.”

“Then, kill all those idiots who are shameless.”

- Description from novelbuddy

This is my first original novel, it may be bad, but this is all in my mind and imagination. (Warning!! There will be an Incest genre) Thank you o⁠(⁠(⁠*⁠^⁠▽⁠^⁠*⁠)⁠)⁠o(oh yeah I forgot, this cover is not mine, I just edited it, if you feel you own it and don't like me using it, please tell me)

Rogers Darren is a smoker, drinker, liar, lothario, gold-digger, rule-breaker.At a brutal Marine HQ hearing, Darren faces accusations of scandalous wages, stolen Germa tech, suspicious Celestial Dragon deaths, and a few too many questionable entanglements with nobles-just another day for the greatest disgrace in Marine history.Biting his cigar, Darren simply grins: “I smoke, I drink, I lust for money and women, I crave power, I lie, and I break every rule... but I'm a damn good Marine.”Silence fell like a dropped anchor.(￣□￣；) (ーー゛) (￣o￣)

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.