MTL - I’m the City Lord of the Last Days - Chapter 83

In a world where ferocious monsters and dangerous Gate are an everyday occurrence, only the strongest survive.The weak, as always, are sacrificed for the greater good.Jeremy is one of them. Betrayed, discarded, and condemned to death, he seems destined for certain doom.But fate is always unpredictable, and the choices of some never unfold as expected.“I'm not a monster, I swear,” he said, turning around with a grin. “They are the real monsters.”A wave of disgusted stares hit him from all directions.“Okay, maybe they're not monsters… maybe they're worse,” he added, nodding seriously. “But me? Nah. I'm the exception.”And then it wasn’t just the humans looking at him with disdain.Even the so-called “monsters” behind him were staring in silence, their eyes fixed on him with what could only be described as mild offense—like their master's behavior had somehow embarrassed them.Not that they could—or would—kill him over it. Probably.The novel contains some violent scenes. They are skippable and do not affect the reading experience. However, I feel it's important to mention it.Additionally, the novel will have a sarcastic tone and won't be too serious.#Undead#Necromancer#Summons#Skeleton

Zhao Xu goes back 10 years in time to the day when Arthur’s game servers opened. Only he knows that one year later, the earth will be destroyed and everyone on earth will transmigrate into the world of Arthur! PS: MC is a double character class of Wizard and Archivist, training in both the arcane and the divine, includes metamagic/magic guards/spells/rubies/action points/hyperactivity/pause/temporary effect/activation/in-game purchases in the making.

Many people wish to be transported to another world, beautiful women, supernatural powers, adventures and the list continues.

But what happens when you are born in a place where almost everyone see you as a tool, which turned out to be useless for their purposses.

Falling into the depths of despair after losing what he cared for the most, the unmistakable sound of a notification changed his destiny and the one of all the planes of existence, but was it for the good... or not?

"The host's current body is too shitty for the system, physical reformation in progress", "physical reformation complete, as a one time reward for surviving the host might ask the system for a wish".

Follow Daimon on his journey through a world where the existences called "Gods" are only higher ranked mages.

-----------------------------------
If You like monsters folklore and cute girls then be my guest
-----------------------------------
The cover is not mine, so all the credit for the right owner
-----------------------------------
The story will have a lot of dark elements so if you don't have stomach for that then I suggest you to leave, oh also i'm quite a pervert myself so be prepared for that (NO NTR).

Once upon a time, there was a makeup artist who possessed outstanding skills and top-notch aesthetic judgement. When he did makeup for various stars, he could embellish sharpness onto the smooth vases that lacked edges, and he could make models who exceeded the boundaries of aesthetics to appear delicate and soft, more approachable to people.

Male stars loved to request him, for he had a thorough understanding of masculine charm in particular, and the makeup he did was never garishly slathered in oils or powders, instead exuding a natural, dashing air of elegance.

Female stars loved to request him, because not only was he excellent in his skills, he was also everyone’s closest confidant; when they chatted, he could easily hold any conversation, and his mouth would be tightly sealed, never allowing anyone’s privacy to slip out.

Although this person was quite young, after getting by in the makeup industry the past few years, he was virtually considered as a distinguished personality in his profession, and would be referred to as a ‘master’ wherever he went.

But he had a terrifying secret. He needed to carefully tread on thin ice and couldn’t expose even the slightest traces; otherwise, nobody would invite him to work ever again, and nobody would apply to the classes he led anymore.

—He was a straight man.

- Description from Novelupdates