MTL - Wasteland Commander - Chapter 174 Fighter warning!

As a human, I should be miles away from any large shifter event. Especially the annual Mate Hunt.A hunt for mates. Doesn't that sound barbaric? Yeah, it's as bad as it sounds.Several packs in the area gather as their newly minted adult wolves shift. Females are let into the woods first and are given an hour's head start, just before sundown. Then it's time for the males, ostensibly thrown out to hunt down the scent of their fated (or chosen) mates.It isn't an event for the faint of heart, and it's definitely no place for someone who can't shift. So why the fuck am I here, running my little human heart out, chased by what sounds like an entire pack of wolves? Great question. I don't know, either.But I'm here.Surrounded by howls fueled by the thrill of the hunt.Feet bleeding. Lungs freezing.I am so fucked.----R18. Dark themes, including but not limited to: Murder, attempted murder, a stack of dead bodies, betrayal, mild sociopathy, an ML who appears to bathe in red flags despite his favorite color being green, an unwarranted hatred of blueberry muffins, and pillow thievery.

When a satellite photo of the Arctic was sent back to the countries, the people of the earth were shocked by the content of the photo.They saw thousands of wolves in the Arctic, which even included hundreds of polar bears and Arctic silver foxes, all uniformly looking obedient.On the top of the snowy mountain, a giant Arctic wolf, whose size exceeded everyone's imagination, was looking down on the Arctic ice field from a high position.

From quiet grind to legacy brew.Jun had nothing—no café, no followers, not even a bed. Just a secondhand kettle and a broken dream.Then came the Barista System.No shortcuts. No instant success. Just slow, intentional tasks... and a promise:Brew. Grow. Endure.Every pour sharpens his skill. Every cup deepens his path.From street corners to pop-ups, from whispered praise to a space of his own—Jun’s grind is just beginning.This is a story of stillness, patience, and the quiet pursuit of mastery.Because greatness isn’t given.It’s brewed—one cup at a time.

His name was Brayden Neal, and he was an ordinary citizen. At eighteen years old, he was bestowed the title of a king!

After ten years of fighting in the northern borders outside the kingdom, he finally returned home. He swore to kill three people the moment he arrived at the capital…