Hollywood Zenith - Chapter 1252: To the Rescue!-1

One hundred fifty-eight years have passed since humanity first spread beyond the bounds of Earth. It has been two years since we made first contact with an alien race. Two years since the war began. A war we are losing.We have been driven back to our last bastion, Earth. Our colonies lie in ruins, our fleets decimated. Our enemy is at our doorsteps, and soon our fortress may fall, but we have one last hope. A new ship that may change the tide of this war, and provide salvation for our race. That ship is humankind’s first ship capable of breaking the lightspeed barrier and bringing the fight to the enemy. Will that ship be able to save our race? Or is she doomed to fail?Note: This is a rewrite of my Earlier work Nomads of Sol.

She was once a globally renowned actress, but was imprisoned for being framed. After being released from prison, she faced huge contractual penalties and retaliation from others. She decided to reclaim her place in the ever-changing showbiz with her strength and wisdom to prove her ability and innocence.She tried her utmost to evade him, yet their fates remained intertwined. He said, “You can't hug me and give up on me!” “You want me to forgive you? Sure, unless I die!” She replied.

With one touch of the stone, Tyron receives his Class and his life changes forever.In an instant his bright and promising future as the scion of two powerful Slayers is torn apart and he must make a decision.Will he allow his Class to be purged from his soul, or will he cling to it, abandon all that he knows, and rise to power?

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.