Marvel: Impregnation System - Chapter 125 - 121: Time Flies When You’re Having Fun

The formless ancient world was infested with despicable demons. They hunted and feasted on mankind, keeping the human civilization constantly in a weak and suppressed state.

During the first known year, a magical mountain descended into the world from the realm of the Gods. Carved on this enormous mountain was a message: ‘Heaven Prevails’…

After the Grand Descent, a name that was given to the descending of the mountain, the Three Great Sages made their ways to Mystic Mountain where they learned to harvest what we now call magic, establishing the Mystic Cults and eighty-one sacred shrines to help aid mankind with the cult’s mystic powers against the eternal fight to the death with demons.

- Description from Novelupdates

Western VRMMO【DEMONDAL】was known for its extremely harsh game system. To begin with, there were no levels. There were no skills. There were no guilds. There was no inventory. There were no convenient system messages or maps of any kind either. It was so needlessly realistic that it was already basically a VR life simulator.

As for anything game-like, it was basically limited to weapon masteries; a proficiency level that you got from using your weapon, as well as physical strength that increased as well. That was it.

It was a fantasy game so there was magic, but forming a contract with a spirit was extremely difficult, and only 1% of the playerbase were magicians.

In this VR game【DEMONDAL】that was ridiculously close to reality, the protagonist Kei who was a well known mounted archery expert, was one day sent to another world with his Russian【DEMONDAL】friend.

The game that was severe to begin with had turned into a reality, and the harshness increased again――

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.”

Following her attempted assassination, Fatima found herself amidst a meticulously staged slave auction orchestrated by her mysterious rescuers in the capital city of a prospective ally empire. Now a slave of the Kartier Duchy, her life as a princess seems far behind her as she spends her days toiling the farms under the scorching sun. Just when all hopes seem to be lost, Fatima’s painful days eased upon meeting the strikingly handsome heir of the Kartier duchy along with his cold and seemingly gruff knight. Will she ever overcome the shackles of slavery and return home to reclaim her title or will spend the rest of her life enduring the cruel treatments of the duchess? Torn between a charming heir and a dubious knight as her potential escape routes, which hand will she grasp?