The Lucky Bride Is Pretty And Delicate - Chapter 864 - : Being a Chess Piece For Life

A man betrayed by a comrade dies a wretched death as a third rate swordsman. His existence, his life, his emotions are all a nuisance in the eyes of society. But wait… What’s this green skin? Reincarnated as a goblin? Wait, I went back in time as well?

Tristan never thought his life would lead where he would be signing all his freedom away, makeup masking his true identity, and walking toward a bond he never agreed to. All to protect his family and survive a world that thought little of him.Alpha King Mitch is powerful, feared, and completely uninterested in love. For him, this is just another duty—an arranged union meant to quiet the pack elders. But when their eyes meet, something shifts. Tristan feels it, even if he’s terrified of what it might mean.Tangled in secrets and bound by a lie, Tristan must navigate a fragile dance between duty and desire… all while hiding the one truth that could destroy everything.

The year was 2026, and the world wasn't what it used to be. Ever since the Abyss Gates cracked open three years ago, spilling monsters and dungeons across the planet, life had turned into a chaotic mess. Cities were half-ruined, half-rebuilt, and people clung to whatever normalcy they could find. Hunters—those brave or crazy enough to fight the monsters—became the new heroes. Everyone else? Well, they just tried to survive.Fin wasn't a Hunter. He wasn't a hero either.He was just… Fin. A lanky 19-year-old with messy brown hair, a chipped front tooth from a dumb skateboard accident, and a power that everyone called useless. Absorption. Sounds cool, right? Like he could suck up energy or steal someone's strength. Nope. All it did was let him “feel” things he touched a little more than normal. He could tell you the exact texture of a brick wall or how warm a coffee mug was—big whoop. No fireballs, no super strength, no flashy moves. Just a glorified touchy-feely trick.“Fin, you gonna eat that sandwich or just stare at it like it's gonna confess its life story?” Meg's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.He blinked and looked across the rickety table at his best friend. Meg was short, loud, and had a wild mop of dyed purple hair that she swore made her look “intimidating.” It didn't.

The Night Has Come, and kermesinus moon ascends in the sky.Hoarse whispers flow at the street corners, and brass steam machines spew out bloody mist.Your brain is singing a hymn, eyes are chanting a melody.Skin cracks, and flesh buds swell.Amidst the Mist, the wall of flesh that has devoured thousands of corpses wails endlessly—“Weep not, our players don't bite, they just want to play with you.”Annan, the lone strategist, the top player, the savior of the mist-covered continent, the leader of the Thirteen Saints, the friend of the Twelve True Gods, the king of pioneers, “the Just”, the Gatekeeper of the Fourth Calamity, the uncrowned deity, advised kindly.