Infernal Ascendancy - Chapter 91: The Hidden Passage

Synopsis: I have joined a harem warrior's party in search of magical ingredients. But why does the warrior keep talking to me? ______________________ Reiew: The protagonist, who goes by the name Louis, joins a hero's party to gather magical ingredients. The party, made up of heroes who admire the main hero, initially sees Louis as a competitor. However, Louis has no interest in becoming a heroine or pursuing a romantic relationship with the hero. Instead, Louis plans to support the heroes and ensure they stay together, but finds herself constantly misunderstood as a rival. Louis’s quirky and endearing traits lead to humorous interactions with the hero's party as she tries to prove she’s not interested in romance​.

Reborn in the school from a previous life, Qin Fan decides to take a revenge on those bullying him for years. rising from an outcast of his family.“I'm not dead? I'm still alive? Haha! HAHAHA!”“Damn! This waste of space is getting way ahead of himself!”“Shit! What kind of dream was he having?”“This is the most attention that waste Qin Fan has ever gotten, haha!”

“Crobat I choose you” said KogaStrength : Elite levelAs our new Ash/Oliver saw this he is feeling nostalgicNow that he thinks about it should he choose Pikachu or Charmander?************This is a translation of Pokemon : Wisdom series

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.”