Fake Professor, Misunderstood As Strong - Chapter 214: Uervar Flower Area... Part-1.

I became a wizard of the Illusion Magic School and decided to create a virtual reality with illusion magic to play a tabletop role-playing game (TRPG).It was great to create a virtual reality, but I was in trouble because there were no suitable players. During that time, I received an offer to be the professor from the Royal Academy.The offer was to use illusion magic to fill the students’ lack of practical experience safely. And so, I became a professor at the academy.“Send me back, send me back to that world right now-!”“Outer god, someday an outer god will be our doom, we’ll all die!!”“I am not the bastard of the Redburn Ducal Family. I am the foremost disciple of the Great Namgung Clan, Namgung Qinghui!”But it seems there is a bit of a misunderstanding.This isn’t a spell for dimensional travel, kids. It’s fiction…

One day, Su Mu transmigrated to an alternate world.This world had martial arts practitioners, Qi cultivators and also various types of terrifying ghosts, monsters and demons.In such a hostile environment, his otherwise-perfectly fine reincarnation system became a death system. For him, death was not the end, but rather, a new beginning. From the system, he experienced the profane lives of tens of thousands of demons! In one simulation, he was cut up, thrown into a pot, and eaten. Then, he became a Bloody Skeleton. In another simulation, he was forcefully conscripted and died in battle. His corpse did not decay, and he became a Drought Zombie. In yet another simulation, he was struck by lightning, and his extreme Yin Qi was converted into Yang Qi. He became a Fierce Thunder Ghost. In one more simulation, he consumed spirits, and his murderous aura filled the skies. He became an Undying Ghost Chariot. Some people cultivated to become deities. One other person died a hundred times to become a demon!

“You are my salvation and an answer to my cursed eyes.”------In a world of vampires, werewolves, and witches, a girl is born to be the bride of the vicious and bloodthirsty 300-year-old immortal Vampire Prince. The man who could never be enticed by any ethereal beauty till now suddenly has shown interest in a woman with a curse whom everyone abandoned.Alora Wilson, the eldest daughter of a high-noble human family, is born with the curse of an old powerful witch.It is the curse that burns the person into ashes if the person looks directly into her eyes. A curse that forces her to wear the blindfold since the moment she was born in this world.When the kids of her age enjoyed every small moment of their lives, she couldn't. No one loves to befriend her. Even her own father and siblings despise her.One day Magnus Lukeson, the Vampire Prince, enters her life– The man whom the entire kingdom is scared of. A man with only foes and no friends. A man who ventures his territory at night to take the fresh blood out of humans irrespective of the age or gender to quench his thirst.~~~~~The blindfold cascaded off Alora's eyes and her enchanted blue eyes met with Magnus' blood-red eyes.“You have enchanting eyes, Alora,” Magnus pronounced.No one ever said that to her. But no one could look into her eyes either. Only Magnus was the exception. The reason was still unknown to her.“Shall we begin the night?” Magnus asked for her permission.“Will His Highness give me love?” Alora asked. She was desperate to be loved. The feeling she could never get from her family and only heard in the words.“And how am I supposed to provide love to you?” Magnus queried since he was curious to know her thoughts.“Holding hands, hugging each other, sleeping together, and sharing thoughts. Isn't that how you shower love?” Alora innocently asked.Magnus ended up smiling to hear her explanation of love. He leaned down and kissed her lips, causing her to shiver from that sudden feeling. “This is the way I shower love,” Magnus pronounced, gazing into Alora's charming blue eyes.

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.”