The Record of Unusual Creatures - Chapter 112: Big Bluey

Meet Alex Knight, a hardworking young man burdened by crushing debt and a bleak future. When his new boss turns his life into a waking nightmare, Alex finds himself trapped in a job he can't escape, his future held hostage by the whims of a tyrant.Just when he believes he has one anchor left—his girlfriend's love—a devastating betrayal leaves him utterly broken.But then the world changes. The system descends, dragging everyone into a chaotic new reality. Alex becomes the first to sync with it, earning a mysterious title:[Apocalypse Baby][You have awakened the skill: Exploding Touch][Anything you touch turns into a bomb.]Armed with a deadly gift, Alex rises from the ashes of his former life to become an unstoppable force in an urban fantasy world where power rules and vengeance drives him forward.

Crimson Vale Academy—where reputation is currency, and failure is a stain you wear on your sleeve.Behind gothic walls and spotless uniforms, students aren't just educated—they're measured, ranked, and pitted against each other in a brutal meritocracy. Privileges are earned, not given. The strong rise. The weak vanish.Enter Kairon Vale, a transfer student marked Rank D—the bottom of the bottom. No badge. Just a stitched black fang, branding him as “Obsidian”—a warning to others.In a system where points dictate your value, Obsidian-ranked students claw for every opportunity to ascend into the prestigious Golden or Platinum ranks—where comfort, power, and influence await. But for most, it’s a losing battle.Yet Kairon isn’t here to fit in, impress, or play by their rules. Cold, calculating, and impossible to read, he watches the system… and waits. Because while the academy judges worth by numbers and names—he understands something deeper:Everyone wears a mask. And every mask can be cracked.Let the games begin.

Jin Rou, the youngest Celestial King, was being restricted to go outside by his father for some reasons. Thus, Jin Rou was fed up.

And so, he made his ‘Grand Plan’ of running away.

Let someone else go to war, you, lucky Austria, go get married! What the god of war can give you, the god of love can also give you.

The smoke of the Napoleonic Wars has dissipated, and the Vienna system that once brought peace to Europe is riddled with holes. Beneath the seemingly peaceful appearance, there is a vortex of the times with undercurrents, the tranquility before the storm.

The air is filled with the steaming mist of sweat, and the choking black smoke makes it hard to breathe. On the elegant dining table, a group of soldiers and fat men in suits are pushing each other, feasting on the feast called the world, hanging on the wall Van Gogh’s self-portrait with waltz in his ears.

Suddenly the music turned into a march, and the picture also turned to the battlefield. Soldiers marched in a neat line, walking towards the machine gun barbed wire.

A shell fell on the ground, and after the smoke passed, countless cavalry rushed to the artillery position.

Accompanied by a loud noise, a wooden plane flew close to the ground, then pulled up rapidly, broke through the clouds, and shone brightly.

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