Worldwide Apocalypse: Starting With Max-Level Skills - Chapter 203 - : Supreme Catalog! The End! (2)

Elara was not a nosy person, but something about her supposedly perfect boss helplessly weeping at night in an empty office triggered her curiosity.Mr. Terrence, her boss, was the ideal image of perfection: powerful, rich, and amiable. There had not been a single flaw in him until the day she saw the crack in his mask.Not only was he not the dominant figure she had assumed, but he was also clingy, sweet, and... wasn’t this the ideal puppy boyfriend?! How was this possible? Her boss was actually a secret softie!Follow Elara as she navigates the chaotic relationship with her 'perfect' boss, filled with nothing but surprises!

When you're reborn as Jorah Mormont you ain't got much. A Dad looking to bale and go spend his days hanging out with the guys on the Wall, a wild Aunt raising your wild cousins you can't stand, an arranged marriage to a girl you never met with a dowry almost low enough to be an insult, and a populace of smallfolk so inebriated and incompetent its no wonder nothing's changed around here in 8,000 years. Hopefully the gold finger granted by Levid's Magically Wheel of Reincarnation can help.A really nice pair of testicles.With that, the right attitude, and a shovel I have everything I need to dig a nice grave to lay in.Or Bag End. Let's see which happens first.

...[Inside an underground basement]“You are going to die for nothing, hahahaha,” the old man's voice thundered through the room, sending chills down my spine.Step.With a swift and ruthless motion, he lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air and slashing my throat, crimson droplets staining the darkness.“We'll see,” I whispered defiantly, my final words escaping as a mere breath against the impending darkness.Slowly, inexorably, my consciousness slipped away, and I descended into a deep, unfathomable slumber.“Huh!?” My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself seated in a bustling tavern, the air thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses.In front of me stood a captivating lady, her beauty juxtaposed with an angry furrow upon her brow, threatening to shatter the harmony of the jovial scene.“Don't follow me around!” Her words pierced the air like shards of ice, the intensity of her emotions palpable as she cast a resentful glare in my direction, before swiftly departing from the tavern....Am I trapped within the confines of a game? The fragments of my shattered common sense scattered before me, leaving me to question the very fabric of my reality.