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... fading afternoon sun, the rain from the morning still clinging to the surface. Valley Parade buzzed with quiet tension—not the raucous energy of a derby, but the kind that settled deep in the chest. Watford, mid-table but sharp on dead balls, stood across the halfway line in tight formation, already barking instructions and throwing elbows.

Jake Wilson stood at the edge of his technical area, arms folded. His bench behind him was heavy—Silva, Vélez, Costa, and Roney all rested. It wasn't ...

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If a man ‘Levels Up’, any boring work can be repeated endlessly―Natsuno Taiyou.

“Talent” should be useful only in game, but even in reality how is it useful!?

When Taiyou woke up he received a power from a fairy “The ability to Level Up in the real world”, but immediately when leveling up boring work, surprisingly ‘charm’ had dropped down!―However, the charm level that was originally 0, has thank god become ‘65535′!

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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.

Stolen by the Rebel KingChapter 578: Epilogue
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As a princess that could not wield magic, Princess Daphne’s only value to her kingdom was her arranged marriage. The task was simple, but when Daphne gets kidnapped and brought to the cold mountains of Vramid, she realizes that she’s in over her head.

She had heard of these cursed mountains before― rocky terrain, freezing temperatures, and the land was ruled by a man feared by many within the continent.

King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North.

Even though she had never met him before, tales were spread of King Atticus’s ruthlessness. Some said he was a monster, others claimed he was the devil himself, but whatever the story was, everyone knew of the man who had powers beyond anyone’s imagination. He could topple armies and crumble nations with just one wave of his hand, aided by what others rumored to be a cursed obsidian ring.

No one outside of Vramid had ever met the fearsome king before. Not until Daphne.

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

……………………………………………………………

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