Martial Research Master - Chapter 342

Bubbles…Soft, fragile, and fleeting. They drift without purpose, bursting at the slightest touch.They aren’t weapons. They aren’t threats. Just harmless playthings, forgotten the moment they vanish.But what if bubbles weren’t so innocent?What if, in a world of Hunters—where magic shatters mountains and fists split seas—someone awakened a Skill based entirely on bubbles?A joke. A death sentence.Goblins would laugh.The weak would pity him. The strong wouldn’t even bother to look twice.But powers can hide secrets. And some truths are buried in plain sight.When a nameless F-Rank awakens the “Bubble Skill,” no one expects him to survive.Let alone rise.However, the indomitable spirit of River Faelan refused to die.Step by step, he climbed to the top—shattering every limit placed on a “mere” Bubble Mage.He proved them all wrong.And he’ll do it again,Even if it means starting from the very bottom… for one more time.

Ichiro was a man who had to live through a tragic and awful life.After losing his wife, his only source of happiness, his despair only got worse until the day he died.To Ichiro's fortune, the Goddess of Life, Phelena, decided to send his soul into a new body in another world. His only condition was for the Goddess to send him far away from people.The goddess agreed, but she certainly had other plans for Ichiro's new life.A wholesome story about a man rekindling his love for living and encountering his lost wife in another world![Story is written in 1st person with a casual tone]

Diagnosed with cancer, she decided to give up the baby in her womb.She had originally planned to have an abortion, get divorced, and then face the arrival of death calmly, hallowing he and his new love to be together.However, he didn't let her go easily. He lingered with her day and night as she grew weaker and weaker, just to leave a child for his infertile new lover.Lying on the hospital bed on the verge of death, she begged, “Take my life and just let me go.”The cold and aloof man knelt in front of her tombstone, holding her favorite gardenias, staying day and night, murmuring with red eyes, “Sweetie, come back. Please don't kidding me...”