The Empror's Trap - Chapter 65: Ch - Massage Fixed

“You're worth a single arrow.”The first immersive virtual MMORPG, The Legend Enigma Online, has conquered the game market! There's not even one person who hasn't heard or seen this game's beautiful and vast magical world overflowing with monsters.Everyone wanted to play this game and be a part of history!Conjuring magic, wielding enormous swords, and even flying across the skies are possible in this game! Guns, arrows? Those are boring compared to this!Jake, however, was compelled to think differently.When the archery became abandoned and forgotten, he took this class and swore to prove others wrong, all because he likes to go against the mainstream!With the bow in his hand, Jake finds passion, talent, and excitement in archery, but will that be enough against the challenges the world keeps for him?It's not only the players that find archery weaker than magic. After the dawn of mana, which happened over two hundred years ago, even NPCs prefer magic over bows.While the other classes have been developed so much by NPCs that players have many luxuries to pick from, the archery is now a mere shadow of its past.That's only the tip of the iceberg of the future Supreme Archer's difficulties!“No matter whatever it is and how long it takes, I'll take everything on and get my archery to the top! The archery where I'm the master and artisan of my bows and arrows, the tailor of my equipment, and pioneer of my own skills!”Hard work, talent, bitter defeats, and uproarious victories–none of it is foreign to Jake!

Did I just get reincarnated to the old self and the old world? What the hell kind of reincarnation is this? And that too no system? Fine. I guess I will do things this time differently. But wait what is these two white bulbs inside my head that I can even internally see. Is that the system? Nope. It's better than I thought. Follow Aric has he gets access to two different universes, one based on magic and other based on technology. Now he can teleport to two different universes whenever he wishes. Hopping around seems fun!What to expect : * 1000 words per chapter at least with 4 5 chapters per week * No harem* Don't expect MC to be a genocidal maniac but he will be ambitious.

*Slow Burn Historical Fantasy Novel*

Elise had about to change into the dress that was lying on the corner of her bed when she heard a knock lightly calling from her door. Curious, she turned the door knob only to have a tall man towering in front of her.

“Master Ian!” She called.

Ian smiled with the usual mischievous smirk that he always used. His crimson eyes trailing a little over her room and spotted the black dress over her bed and shifted his eyes over to the woman in front of him. He stepped forward and spoke. “Where did you acquire that dress?”

“Mr. Harland gave it to me.” Elise replied and strained her neck to see Ian’s brows knitted in its elegance.

“Do you know why a man would love to give a woman a dress?” He gave the riddle that she always had to think twice before replying. But this time, she found no answer and instead shook her head. “I don’t know.”

His grin grew bewitching as though something had stirred deep inside the scarlet eyes that he had. He slowly slid his hand over the collar of her dress, sending a cold shiver that startled her for a moment due to its freezing temperature. After unbuttoning the first two buttons on her collar, he tilted his head down, whispering to her ears. “Because they want to be the one to undress the cloth.”

He paused and kissed her neck, turning the pale skin to red before retracting his move to fix his eyes on her and leisurely replied. “Unfortunately, you can’t wear the dress over there with this.” He chuckled and passed a box over to her hand. “And the fortunate news is I prepared a dress for you.”

Elise was a cursed little girl who could see ghosts. Her family hated her and threw her from one adoptive family to another. However, misfortune didn't act alone. When she was brought up by her aunt, she was sold as a slave. When she had thought she would become nothing but a sacrifice to the sorcerer, she was saved by a man whose identity was far different than a normal mythical being.

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.”