The Price Is Your Everything - Chapter 123: [] Time began to pass

A hero must be compassionate, selfless and courageous.But that isn't all. Because a hero must also be powerful.In this world, power is everything. Strength decides who gets to save lives and who's left with community service. That’s why I was nothing — a rank 50 E-Class reject, skating through the streets, saving what little I could while the real heroes battled gods and monsters.Then one day, I died. Almost.Dragged into the abyss, I was given a second chance: the Forever Core. An armor that evolves. A system that never stops adapting. Every battle, every hit, every mistake, I come back stronger.Now, the monsters that once crushed me can’t kill me the same way twice.I must adapt. Evolve. I must grow stronger and fight harder. Because humanity is worth fighting for.Even if I have to burn every villain alive to prove it.

[Warning: Mature Content 18+, Harem, No NTR!]He was only ten years old when his world turned to ash. Hidden behind a door, shivering with helplessness and fear, the boy peered through the keyhole and watched his parents die. He never knew who killed them. He never even saw the faces of those who took everything from him.The terror was too much for a ten-year old boy. His mind shattered, erasing that night from his memory. And then everything was blank, darkness in front of his eyes as he lost consciousness.When his eyes opened again, a man stood before him, a stranger with a gentle smile and eyes filled with something strange… pity? Or something else?“What happened here boy?”“Happened where?”“You don’t remember, do you?”“Remember what…? Where is father? My Mother?”“I guess this is for the best.”“Good boy. Your father was my dearest friend… and now, you are my responsibility. From now on, you will be my son.”“You have no one left, boy… but I can make sure no one ever takes anything from you again.” The man said gently.And then that man forged him into something inhuman. A weapon honed to perfection, a shadow lurking in the underworld. The mere whisper of his name - Draugr, A ghost that never truly dies, sent grown men into cold sweats, their legs trembling beneath them.The boy soon outgrew his master and carved his own legend in blood. But all this while he never stopped searching—for the ones who killed his parents, for the truth, for revenge.And finally, after fifteen years of silence, he was close. The last clue he needed was just within his grasp.It was so close, yet just an inch out of his grasp. He was ambushed, a trap he never saw coming.Wounded, bleeding out, fighting for his life against an army of men and women eyeing to claim his life, he should have died. But fate had something else stored for him.Barely holding onto life, he stumbled into a girl—fragile-looking, yet completely unafraid of the monster before her. She didn’t run. She didn’t scream. Instead, she smiled.She saved him. Took him to a hospital. And as he lay unconscious, she made her plans.But when he woke up… He had lost everything, He remembered nothing.Not just the truth of his parents' murder. Not just the years of searching. Not just the enemies and allies he'd made along the way. Not even his own name.Twenty-five years of his life—wiped clean.Now, in a world that fears his very name, with ghosts of a past he can no longer remember hunting him in the shadows—he must decide: Is he still the Draugr they all fear? Or is he just a man searching for the pieces of himself?And who is the girl who stole his fate and bound it to hers?

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.”

Some crowns are forged in blood. Others are drowned beneath it.In a city strangled by smoke and silence, where children are shackled to machines and shadows rule behind gilded masks, Keiran is just another forgotten soul—until the mark appears.Buried beneath the factory’s foundations lies a world long erased from history. Ancient oaths whisper through stone and water, and something older than memory begins to stir. As Keiran is drawn deeper into the abyss, he uncovers a legacy not meant for mortal hands—a crown shattered in defiance, a flood sealed by sacrifice, and a power that demands a price.Hunted by tyrants, haunted by echoes, and bound to secrets he never asked for, Keiran must choose: drown in the tide of what came before, or rise against the current and reclaim what the world was forced to forget.But the deeper he goes, the more the truth unravels…And beneath it all, something still breathes.