I Raised the Beast Well - Chapter 110: (End)

Number 23 had it all.A warrior of unmatched power, a Transcendent capable of annihilating armies single-handedly, he was revered as a god among men. He seemed to have everything with wealth, fame, and influence at his fingertips. Yet beneath his cold, ruthless exterior lay an unfulfilled yearning—an elusive desire he couldn’t quite grasp...He wanted to be a hero.Despite his monumental achievements, Number 23’s quest for heroism remained unfulfilled. His life took an unexpected turn when he discovered a book titled [Bright]—a bestselling epic depicting a true hero's journey. Enchanted by its tale, Number 23 became obsessed, devouring every word in search of the heroism he craved. But his journey was cut short when he fell victim to a deadly ambush orchestrated by rival Transcendents, leading to his untimely execution.In his final moments, a single regret lingered in his mind.“I never got to see the ending of [Bright]...”As if answering his unspoken wish, Number 23 was reborn into the world of Bright—not as its celebrated protagonist or a key figure, but as an insignificant extra. Stripped of his former identity, he now inhabited the role of Amon Solaris, a character barely noticed in the grand tapestry of the story.Undeterred by his diminished status, Amon Solaris is determined to learn what it truly means to be a hero. But in this new world, he’s about to encounter a revelation that will change everything he thought he knew…Four chapters a week. New chapters every Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday and Sunday.

The Pseudo-Holy Grail War of Snowfield is About to Begin!Moran, who has transmigrated into the Type-Moon universe, is determined to clear the game in one life!Waiting online, urgent!Ding! You have successfully activated the Life Simulator!• 【You drove out the foreign Olympian Machine Gods, took the hand of the Earth Mother Goddess, and founded a new nation and mythology.】• 【You are the Lord of the Millennium Castle, bestowed with the name Brunestud, and the beloved ruler of the land in the eyes of the Crimson Moon.】• 【You are the Final King of the Age of Gods, single-handedly preventing its decline and ensuring that Divine Age Britain endures to this day.】Behind this dazzling simulated life, Moran now faces—Arcueid: “Weren’t you supposed to pick me up at the Millennium Castle? Why are you here in the Holy Grail War?!”Artoria: “Enough! Come back to Britain with me!”Ereshkigal: “Moran! Who are all these women?!”As his ever-growing circle of admirers closes in, Moran realizes—This might just be the hardest “Kidney Grail War” in history.

Every time he dies, Ethan Hill gains a little more power.Earth was chosen for Integration, but Ethan knows from the second his Trial begins that the Integration is a lie. These creatures giving Earth the 'honor' of access to their Interface want something from Earth - he just doesn't know what.Now he's trapped on an alien planet and lost in a time loop, fighting for strength and for his own humanity.One thing's for sure: He'll die as many times as it takes to tear it all down.

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.”