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... dspeaker, deafening, and ringing a few miles.

Well, a few miles may be a bit exaggerated, but at least people in the vicinity cannot cover the decibel attack even if they cover their ears, and they keep drilling into the ears.

People are a little stunned. This voice is too abrupt and too strange. Who's behind this argument? Sneaking secretly ~ touch it? You're almost like a radio broadcast. Are you treating everyone as deaf?

If you only treat them as deaf, it doesn't matter. ...

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Humanity’s first 8th Class Mage.

Betrayed, he traveled back 30 years into the past.

The story follows Ian Page, archmage and the first man to break through the 6th class, then through the 7th and become the most powerful mage, an 8th class mage.

After a lifetime of war and killing, the continent was finally unified thanks to his efforts. Now, old, his wish is to live the rest of his life in peace and try to find salvation for all the blood he spilled. However, his old friend, maddened by paranoia, couldn’t tolerate someone so powerful, so he betrayed Ian and killed him.

In his last breath, he cast a time magic that allowed him to travel back to when he was a young boy. With all the knowledge he previously had, he decided to do things better so he could end with less regrets.

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WARNING[R18]“Right now,” Zamian whispered, his voice low and sultry, “I'll make sure you only call my name.”“Z-Zamian, what are you... what are you doing?” she gasped as he pulled her even closer, their bodies fitting together perfectly. She could feel the warmth radiating from him, a magnetic force drawing her in.“Shh,” he whispered against her ear, his breath warm and tantalizing. “Not yet. Save that voice for later.”****Mira Adams, a 19-year-old girl, ran into the forest to escape the death that the war had brought her. Little did she know, she would meet Zamian Zan, a mysterious stranger who took her in for reasons unknown. She escaped the next day.On her 21st birthday, she finally left the small village after pleading with her grandfather, who agreed for reasons she didn’t understand. Little did she know, she was destined to marry the stranger she had met two years earlier.Zamian, now 23, is a CEO and secretly the king of a hidden kingdom. He marries Mira due to a debt her late father owed him, but that wasn't his only reason—he told her he wanted a child from her, though his true motives remain a mystery to her.

Double Claims: The Lost mateChapter 79
 
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Maria is a werewolf of the Veilwood Pack, where every woman is born with a gift. But with her twenty-first birthday drawing near and no ability to call her own, her family arranges a marriage that feels more like a cage than a future.On the run from a fate she refuses to accept, Maria narrowly escapes a predator who wants to claim her for himself. Shaken and desperate, she stumbles into the arms of another man whose eyes burn with recognition—her mate.But the predator is still out there, and he wants Maria just as much.Torn between the mate who awakens her heart and the danger that tempts her into the shadows, Maria finds herself desired by two men who will stop at nothing to claim her.Love, obsession, and destiny intertwine, and her choice could cost her everything.

THE DEATH KNELLChapter 67: War of God’s and Shadows
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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.”