Accidentally Married to the Big Shot - Chapter 392: Formula Milk Can Also Be Fed

Rejected at birth for lacking Ka, the divine essence that flows through all living beings, Alioth seemed cursed from the very beginning of his new life.When the heavenly kingdom of the gods collapsed, the world was consumed by Azoth: an abyssal fog that mutates every living thing it touches.Humanity's last refuge became Caelestia, a colossal floating citadel built amid the ruins of the gods' former home.Here, lineage is everything. Those who possess superior Ka can demand absolute obedience from the weak. Without it, one becomes fragile and unable to wield magic.But Alioth harbors a hidden gift, born from his past life: the power to bestow names drawn from the myths of his old world.Zeus, Odin, Excalibur, Gáe Bolg. Everything he names acquires the legendary traits of its mythical counterpart.But will this power be enough to survive and decipher the mysteries of this world?Alioth doesn't know yet, but he's determined not to waste his second chance.

In a world where power is dictated by gangs, cities, and families ranked from Tier 1 to Tier 6, only the strongest survive. In the Tier 4 city of Blackridge, fifteen-year-old Elijah struggles to find his place. With his mother working tirelessly and his younger sister depending on him, he has always kept his head down.Determined to rise above the chaos, Elijah and his best friend Kai decide to create their own gang from nothing. But strength in this world isn’t given—it’s taken. The gangs that rule Blackridge won’t tolerate competition, and even the weakest gang has more resources, manpower, and experience than they do. With no money, no reputation, and no clear allies, they must navigate a brutal world of betrayals, violence, and ambition, where every decision could mean life or death.But Elijah is different. He possesses a mysterious system that offers him power—at a cost. As he slowly uncovers its secrets, he realizes that survival is not enough. To protect those he loves, he must become stronger than anyone else. He must climb the ranks, crush the opposition, and seize control of Blackridge’s underworld.But in a world ruled by kings, warlords, and ancient families, the price of power is steep. And when the past comes back to haunt him—when whispers of a forgotten night resurface—Elijah must confront not only his enemies but the truth about himself.In the gang world, the strong rise, the weak perish, and only the ruthless reign supreme.And Elijah? He plans to reign at the very top

Yang Yi, along with everyone else, is thrust upon a Maritime Survival Game.Some lucky individuals possess special ships; the Iron Heart is armed to the teeth, the Swift Wind is so fast it’s almost invisible, and the Ironhead charges forward with a massive ram.Only the Nightmare, Yang Yi’s ghost ship, has strange and gory elements.The protagonist’s journey won’t be smooth sailing — this is not a story for the weak-hearted.

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”