MTL - Getting Simulated By The Empress Is Not My Intention - Chapter 195 naval battle

“Dane?” “Yeah, the bastard whose head I smashed with a fire extinguisher.” Grayson Miller, whose life goal is to meet his destined partner just like his Papa and Daddy who gave birth to him. However, even after dating countless people, he hasn’t found the right one. Desperate, he even sought out a renowned shaman, who told him that his destined partner was someone connected to ‘fire’ and has ‘big breasts’. Doubtful, but still pondering how to make the connection, he attends a pheromone party where a sudden fire breaks out. While toying with the omegas and spreading his pheromones left and right, he suddenly lost consciousness after having his pheromones controlled by a certain Extreme Omega. After waking up, Grayson realize that his destined partner might be working at the fire station, and with his father’s help, he gets a job there through connections. However, from the very first day, he gets into a physical fight with the firefighters who were keeping him in check, and among them, he also gets particularly entangled with that Dane Striker bastard…….

Leveling Up My Bow In The Apocalypse

“With your own strength, prove the worth of your species.”

The year was 2026, and the world wasn't what it used to be. Ever since the Abyss Gates cracked open three years ago, spilling monsters and dungeons across the planet, life had turned into a chaotic mess. Cities were half-ruined, half-rebuilt, and people clung to whatever normalcy they could find. Hunters—those brave or crazy enough to fight the monsters—became the new heroes. Everyone else? Well, they just tried to survive.Fin wasn't a Hunter. He wasn't a hero either.He was just… Fin. A lanky 19-year-old with messy brown hair, a chipped front tooth from a dumb skateboard accident, and a power that everyone called useless. Absorption. Sounds cool, right? Like he could suck up energy or steal someone's strength. Nope. All it did was let him “feel” things he touched a little more than normal. He could tell you the exact texture of a brick wall or how warm a coffee mug was—big whoop. No fireballs, no super strength, no flashy moves. Just a glorified touchy-feely trick.“Fin, you gonna eat that sandwich or just stare at it like it's gonna confess its life story?” Meg's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.He blinked and looked across the rickety table at his best friend. Meg was short, loud, and had a wild mop of dyed purple hair that she swore made her look “intimidating.” It didn't.