Primordial Awakening: I Breathe Skill Points! - Chapter 11: The Price of Ambition.

Clara Vance had it all.Millions of followers, a beauty empire built on glamour, and a life curated for the camera. But a lost bet with her mother sends her away from a marvelous weekend trip to Mykonos and into the dusty attic of her family’s decaying ancestral manor.The catch was her inheritance. Her task? A dreary clear-out. Her discovery? A centuries-old diary belonging to her great-grandmother, Eleanor Thorne.The ink tells a story of a forgotten history. Eleanor’s forbidden obsession with her guardian and step-uncle, Casimir Guggenheim, a ruthless railroad tycoon with a heart of stone.But when Clara touches the tear-stained pages, the scent of crushed gardenias doesn’t just fill the room, it drags her back to 1879.Trapped in Eleanor’s corseted body, Clara finds herself under the roof of the very man who haunted the diary. To the world, Casimir is a cold, untouchable magnate. To Clara, he’s a puzzle she’s determined to break.The problem? Clara isn’t the timid, fragile girl Casimir remembers. She’s a 21st-century It Girl with no filter, a strategic mind for business, a total lack of respect for Gilded Age propriety and a defiance waiting for trouble to happen. While the original Eleanor was a victim of her station, Clara is ready to burn the cage down.As Clara navigates a world where a single misstep means ruin, scheming relatives see her as a pawn, and a powerful suitor sees her as nothing but a business merger. She realizes the history books were wrong.Rewriting Eleanor’s tragic end is dangerous, especially when she starts falling for the man she was never supposed to have.History says they’re a tragedy. Clara says history is about to get a makeover.

Hiding in the Cold Palace and eventually becoming a Boss of Sorts. Li Mu was transported to a fantastical world and became a measly eunuch of the State of Xia. Despite having initially thought that his life would be a miserable one, he had unexpectedly acquired a check-in system.

June 15 of the year 2010, the third awakening happened. Several smaller worlds had returned to connect with the main world as living beings of different races started to appear and some people managed to connect with the origin and gain control of various powers: control of fire, of water, of wind, of air, and of earth... In the midst of all these confusions, towers that gave unimaginable powers began to appear in all corners of the world, where those who already had powers could upgrade and become more powerful or even those who did not have powers could receive powers through tests of the tower. And because of these towers, conflicts started to happen in all corners of the world by those wanting to monopolize these towers.

Luan Dimas was betrayed by one of the people he trusted most. However, in his final moments before being killed, he was transported back to four months before the third awakening that started the apocalypse on earth. Being a man who lived for a thousand years and had accumulated several techniques, he now had a new chance to correct some of his early mistakes. Luan decided to make the most of this new chance that the heavens had given to him.

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.”